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A MODEL ELM. 



g^rboF <ga\> Manual. 



AN AID IN 



Preparing Programs 



^rbor f^a^ J+xerdses 



CONTAINING 



gboice gelections on Threes, forests, flowers, and 
Kindred gubjects; p^rbov ©a? Music, 
Specimen Programs, etc. 






! b 



/Of EDITED AND COMPILED BY 

CHARLES R V SKINNER, A. M., 

DEPUTY SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION, STATE OF NEW YORK. 



ALBANY: 

WEED, PARSONS AND COMPANY, 



1890. /\r COPYRd 



MAH 31 



Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year eighteen hundred and ninety. 

By WEED, PAHSONS AND COMPANY, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 






Introduction. 



THIS book had its inspiration in an acknowledged reverence for Nature, 
an admiration for trees and forests, an interest in the establishment 
and development of Arbor Day and its purposes, and a desire to furnish 
teachers and others with suitable material, carefully selected, in convenient 
form for the preparation ' of programs for Arbor Day exercises. Such 
exercises very properly accompany the planting of trees. 

One cannot engage in the preparation of such a work without constantly 
growing more and more in touch with Nature and the great lessons which 
she teaches. Interest and reverence go together. One is also' deeply im- 
pressed through it all with the earnestness and tenderness of the beautiful 
thoughts which authors in all ages, and especially American authors, have 
given our literature in their studies of Nature as revealed in trees, forests, 
flowers, birds and children. 

We are carried back in memory by studies like these, to the careless days 
of youth, to enjoy again the unselfish companionship of the trees, the silent 
sentinels about the old home, in whose leaves we have tried to read our 
fortunes. We recall the handsome butternuts which clasped hands across 
the roadway near the homestead, the graceful maples in the grove, the 
orchards and the forests, associated with all of which are so many of the 
truest joys of life. The stately elm too, which still stands on the hill, a 
guide for miles around, the pride of the community, is remembered with all 
the associations which are inseparable from it. 

Arbor Day is rapidly becoming one of the most interesting and one of 
the most extensively observed of school holidays. Originating in Nebraska 
in 1872, it is now observed with more or less enthusiasm in nearly every 
State of the Union, and many millions of trees have been planted. It\ 
cannot be expected that all that can be done on Arbor Day in this direction } 
will counteract in a great degree the waste constantly going on in our 
forests, but it is hoped that the observance of the day will do something to 
excite a reverence for Nature in the study of her great works. Wanton 
destruction of trees may be prevented, or stayed, and children may learn, by 
simple exercises, some of the uses and beauties of trees, and of the value of 



v j INTRODUCTION. 



the study of tree-planting, in its economic phases, and something can at least 
be done, through such influences, to beautify the school grounds of our 
country. 

Acknowledgments. 

If it were possible, it would be a pleasure to make acknowledgment 
by name of all friends who have aided in the preparation of this volume. 
To those who have contributed original productions to its pages, and to those 
who have kindly permitted the use of carefully-arranged programs, special 
acknowledgment is made. 

Mention is particularly made of the following publishers, from whose pub- 
lications numerous beautiful and appropriate selections have been taken : 
Harper & Brothers, New York ; D. Appleton & Co., New York ; A. S. 
Barnes & Co., New York ; Ivison, Blakeman & Co., New York ; Sheldon & 
Co., New York; Taintor Brothers & Co., New York; E. H. Butler & Co., 
Philadelphia; The J. B. Lippincott Co., Philadelphia; Cowperthwait & Co., 
Philadelphia; Van Antwerp, Bragg &: Co., Cincinnati; Ginn & Co., Boston. 

Selections from the American poets, Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes, Lowell, 
Emerson and others are used by permission of and by special arrangement 
with Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., of Boston, owners of the copyrights, 
and publishers of the Household Editions of the poets which form a valu- 
able poetical library in themselves. Quotations from the works of Bryant 
are used by permission of Mr. Parke Godwin of New York. 

For the use of the music given, special acknowledgment is made to Harper 
& Brothers, New York, publishers of the Franklin Square Song Collection ; 
D. Appleton & Co., New York, publishers of the "Song Wave"; Ivison, 
Blakeman & Co., New York, publishers of the " Progressive Glee and 
Chorus Book" ; Biglow & Main, New York ; Ginn & Co., Boston, publishers 
of "The Coda"; The W. W. Whitney Co., Toledo, publishers of the "Song 
Prize." 



Contents. 



PAGE. 

Selections 1 

How Arbor Day is Observed in Various States 329 

Specimen Programs 337 

How to Plant Trees — What to Plant 353 

Arbor Day Music 381 

General Index 439 

Index to Music 453 

Index to Authors 455 

Illustrations : 

A model elm Frontispiece. 

" The groves were God's first temples." Opposite page 4 

The Oak and the mistletoe seed do 117 

Under the Washington elm do . 140 

The purple beech do 187 

Boy that stole apples 253 

Tunnel through " Wawona." Opposite page 272 ^ 

A California giant do 294 / 



^JboF ©a^ |vjanual. 



THE SECRET. 



WE have a secret, just we three, 
The robin, and I, and the sweet cherry tree ; 
The bird told the tree, and the tree told me, 
And nobody knows it but just us three. 

But of course the robin knows it best, 
Because he built the — I shan't tell the rest ; 
And laid the four little — somethings in it — 
I am afraid I shall tell it every minute. 

But if the tree and the robin don't peep, 
I'll try my best the secret to keep ; 
Though I know when the little birds fly about, 
Then the whole secret will be out. 



THE KIND OLD OAK. 

IT was almost time for winter to come. The little birds had all gone far away, 
for they were afraid of the cold. There was no green grass in the fields, 
and there were no pretty flowers in the gardens. Many of the trees had 
dropped all their leaves. Cold winter, with its snow and ice, was coming. 

At the foot of an old oak tree some sweet little violets were still in blossom. 
" Dear old oak,'' said they, "winter is coming; we are afraid that we shall die 
of the cold." 

a Do not be afraid, little ones," said the oak, "close your yellow eyes in 
sleep, and trust to me. You have made me glad many a time with your sweet- 
ness. Now I will take care that the winter shall do you no harm." 

So the violets closed their pretty eyes and went to sleep ; they knew that 
they could trust the kind old oak. And the great tree softly dropped red leaf 
after red leaf upon them, until they were all covered over. 

The cold winter came, with its snow and ice, but it could not harm the little 
violets. Safe under the friendly leaves of the old oak they slept and dreamed 
happy dreams until the warm rains of spring came and waked them again. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE OAK TREE. 

LONG ago, in changeful autumn, 
When the leaves were turning brown, 
From the tall oak's topmost branches 
Fell a little acorn down. 

And it tumbled by the pathway, 
And a chance foot trod it deep 

In the ground, where all the winter 
In its shell it lay asleep. 

With the white snow lying over, 
And the frost to hold it fast, 

Till there came the mild spring weather, 
When it burst its shell at last. 

First shot up a sapling tender, 

Scarcely seen above the ground ; 

Then a mimic little oak tree 

Spread its tiny arms around. 

Now it standeth like a giant, 

Casting shadows broad and high, 

With huge trunk and leafy branches 
Spreading up into the sky. 

Child, when happily thou art resting 

'Neath the great oak's monster shade, 

Think how little was the acorn 

Whence that mighty tree was made. 

Think how simple things and lowly, 
Have a part in nature's plan, 

How the great hath small beginnings, 
And the child will be a man. 

Little efforts work great actions, 

Lessons in our childhood taught, 
Mold the spirit to that temper 

W T hereby noblest deeds are wrought. 

Cherish then the gifts of childhood, 
Use them gently, guard them well ; 

For their future growth and greatness 
Who can measure, who can tell? 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE FOREST TREES. 

UP with your heads, ye sylvan lords, 
Wave proudly in the breeze, 
For our cradle bands and coffin boards 
Must come from the forest trees. 

We bless ye for your summer shade, 

When our weak limbs fail and tire; 
Our thanks are due for your winter aid, 

When we pile the bright log fire. 

Oh ! where would be our rule on the sea, 

And the fame of the sailor band, 
Were it not for the oak and cloud-crowned pine, 

That spring on the quiet land ? 

When the ribs and masts of the good ship live, 

And weather the gale with ease, 
Take his glass from the tar who will not give 

A health to the forest trees. 

Ye lend to life its earliest joy, 

And wait on its latest page; 
In the circling hoop for the rosy boy, 

And the easy chair for age. 

The old man totters on his way, 

With footsteps short and slow; 
But without the stick for his help and stay 

Not a yard's length could he go. 

The hazel twig in the stripling's hand 

Hath magic power to please ; 
And the trusty staff and slender wand 

Are plucked from the forest trees. 

Ye are seen in the shape of the old hand loom 

And the merry ringing flail ; 
Ye shine in the dome of the monarch's home 

And the sacred altar rail. 

In the rustic porch, the wainscoted wall, 

In the gay triumphal car; 
In the rude built hut or the banquet hall, 

No matter ! there ye are ! 

Then up with your heads, ye sylvan lords! 

Wave proudly in the breeze ; 
From our cradle bands to our coffin boards 

We're in debt to the forest trees. Eliza Cook. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



A FOREST HYMN. 

THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
And spread the roof above them — ere he framed 
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, 
Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, 
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
And supplication. For his simple heart 
Might not resist the sacred influences 
Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, 
And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 
All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 
His spirit with the thought of boundless power 
And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why 
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 
Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 
Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find 
Acceptance in His ear. 

Father, thy hand 
Hath reared these venerable columns. Thou 
Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 
Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 
And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow 
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
Among their branches, till, at last they stood, 
As now they .stand, massy, and tall, and dark, 
Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold 
Communion with his Maker. * * * 

These dim vaults, 
These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 
Report not. No fantastic carvings show 
The boast of our vain race to change the form 
Of thy fair works. But thou art here — thou fill'st 
The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 
That run along the summit of these trees 
In music ; thou art in the cooler breath, 
That from the inmost darkness of the place 
Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 




Published by courtesy of Messrs. E. II. Butler & Co., Philadelphia. 

" THE GROVES WERE GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Here is continual worship — Nature, here, 

In the tranquility that thou dost love, 

Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, 

From perch to perch, the solitary bird 

Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, 

Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the roots 

Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 

Of all the good it does. 

Thou hast not left 
Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace 
Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak — 
By whose immovable stem I stand and seem 
Almost annihilated- — not a prince, 
In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 
E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 
Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, 
With scented breath and look so like a smile, 
Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
A visible token of the upholding Love, 
That are the soul of this wide universe. 

My heart is awed within me when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
In silence, round me — the perpetual work 
Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed 
Forever. Written on thy works I read 
The lesson of thy own eternity. 
Lo ! all grow old and die — but see, again, 
How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
Youth presses — ever gay and beautiful youth 
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
Moulder beneath them. * : '- * 

There have been holy men who hid themselves 
Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
The generation born with them, nor seemed 
Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
Around them ; — and there have been holy men 
Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



But let me often to these solitudes 
Retire, and in thy presence reassure 
My feeble virtue. * * * 

Be it ours to meditate, 
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of thy works 
Learn to conform the order of our lives. 

W. C. Bryant. 



;i^)s 



s. 



THE rose is praised for its beaming face, 
The lily for saintly whiteness; 
We iove this bloom for its languid grace, 
And that for its airy lightness. 

We say of the oak, " How grand of girth ! " 

Of the willow we say '* How slender ! " 
And yet to the soft grass, clothing earth, 

How slight is the praise we render ! 

But the grass knows well, in her secret heart. 

How we love her cool, green raiment ! 
So she plays in silence her lovely part, 

And cares not at all for payment. 

Each year her buttercups nod and drowse, 

With sun and dew brimming over ; 
Each year she pleases the greedy cows 

With oceans of honeyed clover. 

Each year on the earth's wide breast she waves 

From Spring until bleak November; 
And then she remembers so many graves 

That no one else will remember. 

And while she serves us with goodness mute, 

In return for such sweet dealings 
We tread her carelessly underfoot, — 

Yet we never wound her feelings. 

Here's a lesson that he who runs may read : 

Though I fear but few have won it, — 
The best reward of a kindly deed 

Is the knowledge of having done it. 

Edgar Fawcett. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE FLOWER MISSION. 

CHILDREN, a flower seems a little thing, but little things often have a 
mighty influence for good or bad. We are little, but we have an influence, 
we have a mission in this world. Have you heard the sto^ of the mission and 
the influence for good, that a simple little flower had, once on a time? Listen, 
and it shall be told to you, and from it you can learn the lesson that nothing 
was made to live and die in vain, and that nothing is so poor that it has no in- 
fluence of some kind, and that the use of that influence for good makes others 
happy and brings to us a blessing. 

There was once a little flower growing where weeds were tall ; 
The blue sky bending over, it could see, and that was all. 
" I know I was meant for something, else I would not be here ! " 
It kept saying over and over to a briar growing near. 

" I think you must be mistaken," was ever the briar's reply, 

" Such a poor little thing as you are, will live for a day and die." 

But the faith of the flower was steadfast as it turned its face to God, 

Believing it had a mission above the green earth's sod. 

Now the weeds that hedged in the flower grew close by a sick girl's room ; 
And the breeze brought in through the window a breath of the flowers' perfume. 
" And oh," cried the girl in gladness, '' I can smell the old home flowers ; 
Bring in one of the blossoms to cheer these lonely hours." 

They brought in one and laid it in the sick girl's wasted hand ; 

She kissed it over and over, but they could not understand 

What it was she said to the flower of the old home far away, 

Or the words that were sweet with comfort that the flower had to say. 

Each morning they brought a blossom to brighten the sick girl's room; 

And the heart of the humble flower was glad in the tall weed's gloom. 
" I knew I was meant for something; " it said to its friend the sky, 
" I was sure of a nobler mission than just to live and die." 

One morning they told the flower that the homesick girl was dead; 
And it gave them its last sweet blossom as they told it what she said : 
" It has been such a comfort to me, sick in a stranger land ; 
That is the message I send it ; it will know and understand." 

Then the flower looked up and whispered to its steadfast friend, the s»ky : 
" I thank God for the mission he gave me ; with a happy heart I die." 
Be sure we were meant for something; keep faith in the God above ; 
And our lives may make others happy with the flowers of human love. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE OAK. 

A GLORIOUS tree is the old gray oak ; 
He has stood for a thousand years — 
Has stood and frowned 
On the trees around, 
Like a king among his peers ; 
As around their king they stand, so now, 

When the flowers their pale leaves fold 
The tall trees round him stand, arrayed 
In their robes of purple and gold. 
He has stood like a tower 
Through sun and shower, 
And dared the winds to battle ; 
He has heard the hail, 
As from plates of mail, 
From his own limbs shaken, rattle ; 
He has tossed them about, and shorn the tops 

(When the storm has roused his might) 
Of the forest trees, as a strong man doth 
The heads of his foes in fight. 

George Hill. Fall of the Oak. 



The young oak grew, and proudly grew, 

For its roots were deep and strong ; 
And a shadow broad on the earth it threw, 

And the sunlight lingered long 
On its glossy leaf where the flickering light 

Was flung to the evening sky; 
And the wild bird sought to its airy height 

And taught her young to fly. 



Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. 



With his gnarled old arms and his iron form, 

Majestic in the wood, 
From age to age, in sun and storm, 

The live-oak long has stood ; 
And generations come and go, 

And still he stands upright, 
And he sternly looks on the world below, 

As conscious of his might. 



The oak, for grandeur, strength, and noble size, 
Excels all trees that in the forest grow ; 

From acorn small, that trunk, those branches rise, 
To which such signal benefits we owe. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Behold, what sheltec in its ample shade, 

From noontide sun, or from the drenching rain. 

And of its timber stanch, vast ships are made, 
To sweep rich cargoes o'er the watery main. 



SOLILOQUY OF DOUGLAS— SOLEMNITY. 

THIS place, — the centre of the grove : — 
Here stands the oak, the monarch of the wood ! 
How sweet and solemn is this midnight scene ! 
The silver moon unclouded holds her way 
Through skies where I could count each little star; 
The fanning west wind scarcely stirs the leaves ; 
The river, rushing o'er its pebbled bed, 
Imposes silence with a stilly sound. 
In such a place as this, at such an hour — 
If ancestry may be in aught believed — 
Descending spirits have conversed with man, 
And told the secrets of the world unknown. 



Home, 



ARBUTUS. 



HAIL the flower whose early bridal makes the festival of Spring ! 
Deeper far than outward meaning lies the comfort she doth bring; 
From the heights of happy winning, 
Gaze we back on hope's beginning 
Feel the vital strength and beauty hidden from our eyes before; 
And we know, with hearts grown stronger, 
Tho' our waiting seemeth longer, 
Yet with Love's divine assurance, we should covet nothing more. 

Elaine Goodale. 



How fair is the rose ! what a beautiful flower, 

The glory of April and May ! 
But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, 

And they wither and die in a day. 
Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast, 

Above all the flowers of the field ; 
When its leaves are all dead, and its fine colors lost, 

Still how sweet a perfume it will yield ! 

• Isaac Watts. 



IO ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THOUGHTS ON THE FOREST. 

WELCOME, pure thoughts! welcome, ye silent groves! 
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves; 
Now the winged people of the sky shall sing 
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome Spring; 
And if contentment be a stranger, — then 
I'll ne'er look for it, but in heaven again. 

Sir Henry Wotton. 



Oh ! come to the woodlands, 't is joy to behold, 

The new waken'd buds in our pathway unfold; 

For Spring has come forth, and the bland southern breeze 

Is telling the tale to the shrub and the trees, 

Which, anxious to show her 

The duty they owe her, 
Have decked themselves gayly in emerald and gold. 



I love thee in the Spring, 
Earth-crowning forest! when amid the shades 
The gentle South first waves her odorous wing, 

And joy fills all the glades. 

In the hot Summer time, 
With deep delight, the somber aisles I roam, 
Or, soothed by some cool brook's melodious chime 

Rest on thy verdant loam. 

But O, when Autumn's hand 
Hath marked thy beauteous foliage for the grave, 
How doth thy splendor, as entranced I stand, 

My willing heart enslave ! 

Wm. Jewett Pabodie. 



Hail, old patrician trees so great and good ! 
Hail, ye plebeian under-wood ! 

Where the poetic birds rejoice, 
And for their quiet nests and plenteous food 

Pay with their grateful voice.- 

Hail, the poor Muses' richest manor-seat ! 
Ye country houses and retreat, 

Which all the happy gods so love, 
That for you oft they quit their bright and great 

Metropolis above. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. I i 



Tis beautiful to see a forest stand, 

Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the pride 
Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland 

Comes with a kiss as lover to his bride; 
To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams 

Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, 

Where somber pines rise o'er the shadowy gleams 

Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. 

A. B. Neal. 



The heave, the wave, and bend 
Of everlasting trees, whose busy leaves 
Rustle their songs of praise, while ruin weaves 
A robe of verdure for their yielding bark, 
While mossy garlands, full and rich and dark, 
Creep slowly round them ! Monarch of the wood, 
Whose mighty scepters sway the mountain brood, 

Shelter the winged idolators of Day — 
And grapple with the storm-god, hand to hand, 
Then drop like weary pyramids away, 
Stupendous monuments of calm decay. 



John Neal. 



There oft the muse, what most delights her, sees 

Long living galleries of aged trees, 

Bold sons of earth, that lift their arms so high, 

As if once they would invade the sky. 

In such green palaces the first kings reigned, 

Slept in their shade, and angels entertained; 

With such old councillors they did advise, 

And, by frequenting sacred groves, grew wise. 



Oh ! bear me then to vast embowering shades ; 
To twilight groves, and visionary vales ; 
To weeping grottoes, and prophetic glooms ! 
Where angel forms athwart the solemn dusk 
Tremendous, sweep, or seem to sweep, along; 
And voices, more than human, through the void, 
Deep-sounding, seize the enthusiastic ear. 

Thomson. Autumn. 



We bring daisies, little starry daisies, 

The angels have planted to remind us of the sky. 

When the stars have vanished they twinkle their mute praises, 

Telling, in the dewy grass, of brighter fields on high. 



Read. 



I 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE DREAMER AND REAPER. 

[Extract from a poem read by Rev. Dr. James H. Ecob, of Albany, before the 
Society of the Alumni of Hamilton College on the 26th of June, 1889. The 
theme of the poem was suggested by the visit of Dr. Ecob to the home of his 
childhood, after an absence of many ) r ears.] 

MY father loved a tree as men 
Are wont to love their kind ; so, when 
He left the hot and hated life 
• Of city streets and city strife, 
As flies the nesting bird, he flew, 
On eager wing, by instinct true, 
To build and rear his little brood. 
Deep in the wood's green solitude. 
A young bird in the nest first lifts 
His wondering eves thro' sunny rifts 
Of happy leaves ; about his nest 
The russet arms are strongly pressed, 
The springing arches, high and dim, 
Are haunted by the whispered hymn 
Of summer winds, while far below 
The voices of the great world flow. 
So nested all my early years 
Among the trees. The wood enspheres 
My first, my fairest memories. 
And deep as life in Druid trees, 
Lie hidden founts of tears and love, 
That answer to the hymn above, 
Of softly stirring boughs and leaves. 
Bethesda-like, my soul receives 
New life and healing, quickening moods, 
When troubled by the angel of the woods. 

So slipped those lovely, shadowy years, 
As slips a wandering wind one hears 
Among the trees ; a sudden stir 
Of startled leaves ; upon the floor 
Of moss and flowers, a tangled sheen 
Of light and shade, and then, between 
Your breaths, 'tis gone. You hear its feet 
Retreating airily and fleet, 
And wonder if it e'er had been, 
Or if a gust of dreams broke in 
Upon the soul. 

I turned again, 
When I had been with time and men, 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 3 

Till heart and brain were faint and sore, 

And sought with eager thirst once more 

To bathe my spirit in the shade 

Of those beloved woods, which made 

Forever more my childhood seem 

A glory, an unending dream. 

I scarce could keep my longing feet 

From racing, boy-like, to compete 

With all my hurrying soul, which ran 

So like a child, adown the hill, 

Ahead of the slow-pacing man, 

To where the path across the rill 

Turned sharp and left you in the wood. 

And there with beating heart I stood 

But lo ! my woods, beloved woods, were gone. 

Not one of all their hosts, not one, 

Remained. As flies upon the wind 

The autumn leaves, no trace behind 

Of all their fiery pomp, so fled 

My mighty woods before the years. 

I stood as one above the dead, 

Stricken with loss, in uncontrolled tears. 

The wide, unsympathetic sky 
Looked down with blurred and sultry eye. 
And where my childhood's feet had strayed 
O'er moss and gnarled root and shade, 
All wrought with shifting green and gold, 
More rare than lace on armor old ; 
Where stood the solemn ranks of trees; 
Where rolled such organ harmonies 
As ne'er were heard in minster pile ; 
Where mysteries haunted crypt and aisle ; 
Where harping spirits of the air 
Were here and there and everywhere ; 
Behold, there flowed a field of wheat, 
Rustling and yellowing in the heat. 
Beyond the knoll where feed the sheep, 
The farmers' plain white gables peep, 
New sheaves a lumbering wagon brings, 
The driver flips his whip and sings. 

With heavy heart I slowly turned ; 

The golden wheat that flared and burned 

Beneath the sun, how small, how cheap ! 

Come quickly, sickle, quickly reap ! 

Come rough, strong bands and quickly bind ! 



14 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



And turn, O roaring mill, to grind. 
To stop the hungry mouths that wait ! 
Oh, sordid world, what vulgar rate 
Is this, to give thy woods for wheat ? 
Thy hidden thought and deep retreat 
Of mysteries; thy solemn hymn, 
Thy noonday twilight cool and dim, 
For this dull round of use and care, 
Of need and toil and sultry glare ! 

But, as I walked, a better mind 

Began the parable to find. 

For men must live, and good is wheat ; 

We all may dream, but all must eat. 

I wonder if the gods ordain, 

That, just as a rainbow and the rain, 

The beauty and the use combine, 

So dreams and strength shall entertwine. 

The visions that our boyhood led, 

Dissolve upon the hills of youth, 

To feed some secret fountain head, 

That bursts in man to strength and truth, 

Here, age on age, the mighty wood 

Drank deep the sun's exhaustless flood; 

Then dropped its million flaming leaves. 

The dull, cold earth below receives 

The kindling bath of lambent fire, 

Aerial gold and warm desire, 

And stores the generous wealth and heat, 

To burst at last in srolden wheat. 



KIND WORDS. 

KIND hearts are the gardens, 
Kind thoughts are the roots, 
Kind words are the blossoms, 
Kind deeds are the fruits. 

Little moments make an hour; 

Little thoughts, a book ; 
Little seeds, a tree or flower.; 

Water drops, a brook ; 
Little deeds of faith and love; 

Make a home for vou above. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. I 5 



THE PEBBLE AND THE ACORN. 



U 



AM a pebble ! and yield to none ! " 
X Were the swelling words of a tiny stone ; 
" Nor time nor seasons can alter me; 

I am abiding, while ages flee. 
The pelting hail, and the drizzling rain, 

Have tried to soften me, long, invain; 
And the tender dew has sought to melt 

Or touch my heart, but it was not felt. 
There's none that can tell about my birth, 

For I am as old as the big, round earth. 
The children of men arise, and pass 

Out of the world, like the blades of grass; 
And many a foot on me has trod, 

That's gone from sight and under the sod, 
I am a pebble ! but what art thou, 

Rattling along from the restless bough ? " 

The acorn was shocked at this rude salute, 

And lay for a moment abashed and mute ; 
She never before had been so near 

His gravelly ball, the mundane sphere; 
And she felt for a time at a loss to know 

How to answer a thing so coarse and low. 
But to give reproof of a nobler sort 

Than the angry look, or the keen retort. 
At length she said, in a gentle tone, 

" Since it has happened that I am thrown 
From the lighter element where I grew, 

Down to another so hard and new, 
And beside a personage so august, 

Abased, I .will cover my head with dust, 
And quickly retire from the sight of one 

Whom time, nor season, nor storm, nor sun, 
Nor the gentle dew, nor the grinding heel 

Has ever subdued, or.made to feel ! " 
And soon in the earth she sunk away, 

From the comfortless spot where the pebble lay. 

But it was not long ere the soil was broke 

By the tiny head of an infant oak ! 
And, as it arose, and its branches spread, 

The pebble looked up, and wondering, said, 
'A modest acorn, — never to tell 

What was inclosed in its simple shell ! 



r 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



That the pride of the forest was folded up 

In the narrow space of its little cup ! 
And meekly to sink in the darksome earth, 

Which proves that nothing could hide her worth ! 
And, oh, how many will tread on me, 

To come and admire the beautiful tree, 
Whose head is towering toward the sky, 

Above such a worthless thing as I ! 
Useless and vain, a cumberer here, 

I have been idling from year to year. 
But never, from this, shall a vaunting word 

From the humble pebble again be heard, 
Till something without me or within, 

Shall show the purpose for which I've been ! " 
The pebble its vow could not forget, 

And it lies there wrapped in silence yet. 

Hannah F. Gould. 



AUTUMN VOICES. 

WHEN I was in the wood to-day 
The golden leaves were falling round me, 
And I thought I heard soft voices say 

Words that with sad enchantment bound me. 

' O, dying year ! O, flying year ! 

O, days of dimness, nights of sorrow ! 
O, lessening night ! O, lengthening night! 
O, morn forlorn and hopeless morrow ! " 

No bodies visible had these 

Whose voice I heard so sadly calling ; 
They were the spirits of the trees 

Lamenting for the bright leaves falling. 

Prisoners in naked trunks they lie, 

In leafless boughs have lodging slender ; 
But soon as Spring is in the sky 

They deck again the woods with splendor. 

The light leaves rustled on the ground, 

Wind-stirred, and when again I hearkened, 
Hushed were those voices. Wide around 

Night fell, and all the ways were darkened. 

F. W. B., in Spectator. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I J 



THE MEETING OF THE DRYADS. 

IT was not many centuries since, 
When, seated on the moonlit green, 
Beneath the tree of liberty 

A ring of weeping sprites was seen. 
* * * * 

They met not as they once had met, 

To laugh over many a jocund tale ; 
But every pulse was beating low, 

And every cheek was cold and pale. 

There rose a fair but faded one, 

Who oft had cheered them with her song ; 
She waved a mutilated arm, 

And silence held the listening throng. 

" Sweet friends," the gentle nymph began, 

" When often by our feet has passed 

Some biped, Nature's walking whim, 
Say, have we trimmed one awkward shape 
Or lopped away one crooked limb ? 

" Go on, fair Science ; soon to thee 

Shall Nature yield her idle boast ; 
Her vulgar fingers formed a tree, 

But thou hast trained it to a post. 

"Go paint the birch's silver rind, 

And quilt the peach with softer down ; 
Up with the willow's trailing threads, 

Off with the sunflower's radiant crown ! 

* * # # 

" I cannot smile, — 

* * * * 
" Again in every quivering leaf 

That moment's agony I feel, 
When limbs, that spurned the northern blast, 
Shrunk from the sacrilegious steel. 

" A curse upon the wretch that dared 
To coop up with his felon saw ! 

* * * * 

" May nightshade cluster round his path, 

And thistles shoot, and brambles cling; 
May blistering ivy scorch his veins, 

And dogwood burn, and nettles sting. 
2 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



On him may never shadow fall, 

When fever racks his throbbing brow, 
And his last shilling buy a rope 

To hang him on my highest bough ! " 

She spoke; — the morning's herald beam 

Sprang from the bosom of the sea, 
And every mangled sprite returned 

In sadness to her wounded tree. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



WAITING FOR THE MAY. 

FROM out his hive there came a bee ; 
" Has spring-time come or not ? " said he. 
Alone within a garden bed 
A small, pale snowdrop raised its head. 

" Tis March, this tells me," said the bee ; 

"The hive is still the place for me ; 
The day is chill, although 'tis sunny, 
And icy cold this snowdrop's honey." 

Again came humming forth the bee, 
" What month is with us now ? " said he. 
Gay crocus-blossoms, blue and white 
And yellow, opened to the light. 

" It must be April," said the bee, 

" And April's scarce the month for me. 

I'll taste these flowers (the day is sunny), 

And wait before I gather honey." 

Once more came out the waiting bee. 
" 'Tis come ; I smell the spring ! " said he. 
The violets were all in bloom ; ■ 
The lilac tossed a purple plume. 

The daffodil wore a yellow crown ; 
The cherry tree a snow-white gown ; 
And by the brookside, wet with dew ; 
The early wild wake-robins grew. 

" It is the May-time," said the bee ; 

" The queen of all the months for me ; 
The flowers are here, the sky is sunny, 
'Tis now the time to gather honey." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 19 



PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE. 

COME, let us plant the apple tree. 
Cleave the tough greensward with the spade; 
Wide let its hollow bed be made ; 
There gently lay the roots, and there 
Sift the dark mould with kindly care, 

And press it o'er them tenderly — 
As, round the sleeping infant's feet, 
We softly fold the cradle-sheet; 
So plant we the apple tree. 

What plant we in this apple tree? 
Buds, which the breath of summer days 
Shall lengthen into leafy sprays ; 
Boughs where the thrush with crimson breast, 
Shall haunt and sing and hide her nest; 

We plant upon the sunny lea, 
A shadow for the noontide hour, 
A shelter from the summer shower, 

When we plant the apple tree. 

What plant we in this apple tree ? 
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs 
To load the May wind's restless wings, 
When from the orchard row, he pours 
Its fragrance through our open doors ; 

A world of blossoms for the bee, 
Flowers for the sick girl's silent room, 
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom, 

We plant with the apple tree. 

/ What plant we in this apple tree? 
Fruits that shall swell in sunny June, 
And redden in the August noon, 
And drop, when gentle airs come by, 
That fan the blue September sky, 

While children come, with cries of glee, 
And seek them where the fragrant grass 
Betrays their bed to those who pass, 

At the foot of the apple tree. 

And when, above this apple tree, 
The winter stars are quivering bright, 
And winds go howling through the night, 
Girls, whose young eyes o'erflow with mirth, 
Shall peel its fruit by cottage hearth. 



20 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

And guests in prouder homes shall see, 
Heaped with the grape of Cintra's vine 
And golden orange of the line, 

The fruit of the apple tree. 

The fruitage of this apple tree 
Winds and our flag of stripe and star 
Shall bear to coasts that lie afar, 
Where men shall wonder at the view, 
And ask in what fair groves they grew; 

And sojourners beyond the sea 
Shall think of childhood's careless day, 
And long, long hours of summer play, 

In'the shade of the apple tree. 

Each year shall give this apple tree 
A broader flush of roseate bloom, 
A deeper maze of verdurous gloom, 
And loosen, when the frost-clouds lower, 
The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower. 

The years shall come and pass, but we 
Shall hear no longer, where we lie, 
The summer's songs, the autumn's sigh, 

In the boughs of the apple tree. 

And time shall waste this apple tree. 
Oh, when its aged branches throw 
Thin shadows on the ground below, 
Shall fraud and force and iron will 
Oppress the weak and helpless still? 

What shall the tasks of mercy be, 
Amid the toils, the strifes, the tears 
Of those who live when length of years 

Is wasting this little apple tree ? 

" Who planted this old apple tree ? " 
The children of that distant day 
Thus to some aged man shall say ; 
And, gazing on its mossy stem, 
The gray-haired man shall answer them: 

"A poet of the land was he, 
Born in the rude but good old times : 
Tis said he made some quaint old rhymes, 
On planting the apple tree." 

William Cullen Bryant. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 2 I 



PLANT A TREE. 



H 



E who plants a tree 
Plants a hope. 
Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope ; 
Leaves unfold into horizons free. 
So man's life must climb 
From the clods of time 
Unto heavens sublime. 
Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree, 
What the glory of thy boughs shall be ? 

He who plants a tree 
Plants a ]o\ j ; 
Plants a comfort that will never cloy. 
Every day a fresh reality. 

Beautiful and strong, 

To whose shelter throng 

Creatures blithe with song. 
If thou couldst but know, thou happy tree, 
Of the bliss that shalt inhabit thee. 

He who plants a tree 
He plants peace. 
Under its green curtains jargons cease, 
Leaf and zephyr murmur soothingly; 

Shadows soft with sleep 

Down tired ej^elids creep, 

Balm of slumber deep. 
Never hast thou dreamed, thou blessed tree, 
Of the benediction thou shalt be. 

He who plants a tree 
He plants youth ; 
Vigor won for centuries in sooth ; 
Life of time, that hints eternity ! 

Boughs their strength uprear, 

New shoots every year 

On old growths appear. 
Thou shalt teach the ages, sturdy tree, 
Youth of soul is immortality. 

He who plants a tree 
He plants love ; 
Tents of coolness spreading out above 
Wayfarers, he may not live to see 

Gifts that grow are best ; 

Hands that bless are blest; 

Plant ; life does the rest? 
Heaven and earth help him who plants a tree, 
And his work its own reward shall be. 

Lucy Larcom. 



2 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPRING AND SUMMER. 

SPRING is growing up, 
Is it not a pity ? 
She was such a little thing, 

And so very pretty. 
Summer is extremely grand, 
We must pay her duty; 
But it is to little Spring 

That she owes her beauty ! 

From the glowing sky 

Summer shines above us; 
Spring was such a little dear, 

But will Summer love us ? 
She is very beautiful, 

With her grown up blisses, 
Summer we must bow before; 

Spring we coax with kisses' 

Spring is growing up, 

Leaving us so lonely; 
In the place of little Spring 

We have Summer only ! 
Summer with her lofty airs, 

And her stately paces ; 
In the place of little Spring, 

With her childish graces. 



ALL YELLOW. 

A DANDELION sprang on the lawn, 
All gayly dressed in yellow; 
He nodded in the springing grass, 
A jolly little fellow. 

A yellow bird flew from the tree; 

He, too, was dressed in yellow, 
The saucy thing to steal my coat ! 

The thief, the wicked fellow ! " 

A golden sunbeam came that way, 
And eyes each little fellow; 

Dear me when one the fashion leads, 
How common grows my yellow." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



2 3 



A SONG TO MOTHER EARTH. 

IN the merry month of May 
Comes our gladsome Arbor Day, 
And with cheerful voice we raise 
Hearty notes of grateful praise. 

To our loving mother earth, 
To her kindness and her worth, 
She who makes the world so gay, 
On this happy Arbor Day. 

She it is who makes the field 
Plant and flower and fragrance yield, 
And the graceful leafy tree, 
Planted now along the lea. 

Beautiful the meadow bright, 
In the sunbeam's golden light — 
Buttercup and daisy fair 
Mother earth has scattered there. 

Clover, too, and lily white 
Blossom in the morning light, — 
All are tended by her hand, 
As they deck the pleasant land. 

See the waving blades of grass 
As along our way we pass ! 
Mother earth has planted these 
And the flowers, our sight to please. 

Mother earth, thy name we sing, 
While our cheery voices ring ! 
Loud our shouts of joy we raise 
As we chant thy worthy praise ! 

God has given mother earth 
Children fair, of wondrous birth — 
His great goodness we adore, 
We will bless Him evermore ! 
Troy, N. Y., 1889. James H. Kellogg. 



24 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE MAIDEN SPRING. 



DIALOGUE. 

May : 

ALL the buds and bees are singing; 
Ail the lily bells are ringing; 
All the brooks run full of laughter, 
And the wind comes whispering after. 
What is this they sing and say? 
" It is May !" 

Look, dear children, look ! the meadows, 
Where the sunshine chases shadows, 
Are alive with fairy faces, 
Peeping from their grassy places. 
What is this the flowers say ? 
'•It is May! " 

See ! the fair blue sky is brighter, 
And our hearts with hope are lighter. 
All the bells of joy are ringing; 
All are grateful voices singing ; 
All the storms have passed away. 
" It is May ! " 
Roses : 

We are blushing roses, 

Bending with our fullness, 
'Midst our close capped sister buds, 

Warming the green coolness. 

Hold one of us lightly — 

See from what a slender 
Stalk we bower in heavy blooms, 

And roundness rich and tender. 

Lilies: 

We are lilies fair, 

The flower of virgin light ; 
Nature held us forth, and said, 

" Lo ! my thought of white." 

Ever since then, angels 

Hold us in their hands; 
You may see them when they take 
In pictures their sweet stands. 

Like the garden's angels 

Also do we seem, 
And not the less for being crowned 

With a golden dream. 



Leigh Hunt. 



Leigh Hunt. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



2 5 



Violets : 

We are the sweet flowers, 

Born of sunny showers, 
(Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith), 

Utterance mute and bright, 

Of some unknown delight; 
We fill the air with pleasure by our simple breath, 

All who see us love us — 

We benefit all places ; 

Unto sorrow we give smiles and unto graces — races. 

Leigh Hunt. 
Pink : 

And, dearer I, the pink, must be, 

And me thou sure dost choose, 
Or else the gard'ner ne'er for me 

Such watchful care would use ; 
A crowd of leaves enriching bloom ! 
And mine through life the sweet perfume, 

And all the thousand hues. 

Goethe. 
Daisy: 

The flower that's bright with the sun's own light, 

And hearty and true and bold, 
Is the daisy sweet that nods at your feet, 

And sprinkles the fields with gold. 



Daffodil: 

The dainty lady daffodil 

Hath donned her amber gown, 
And on her fair and sunny head 

Sparkles her golden crown. 

Her tall green leaves, like sentinels, 
Surround my lady's throne, 

And graciously in happy state, 
She reigns a queen alone. 

Arbutus: 

If spring has maids of honor, 

And why should not the spring, 
With all her dainty service, 

Have thought of some such thing? 

If spring has maids of honor, 

Arbutus leads the train; 
A lovelier, a fairer, 

The spring would seek in vain. 



Mary E. Sharpe. 



H. H. 



2 6 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



WORDS FROM THE TREE. 

IT is a great pleasure to think of the young people assembling to celebrate 
the planting of trees, and connecting them with the names of authors 
whose works are the farther and higher products of our dear old Mother Nature. 
An Oriental poet says of his hero : 

Sunshine was he in a Wintry place. 
And in midsummer coolness and shade. 

Such are all true thinkers, and no truer monuments of them can exist than 
beautiful trees. Our word book is from the beech tablets on which men used 
to write. Our word Bible is from the Greek for bark of a tree. Our word 
paper is from the tree papyrus — the tree which Emerson found the most inter- 
esting thing he saw in Sicily. Our word library is from the Latin liber, bark of 
a tree. Thus literature is traceable in the growth of trees, and was originally 
written on leaves and wooden tablets. The West responds to the East in asso- 
ciating great writers with groups of trees, and a grateful posterity will appre- 
ciate the poetry of this idea as well while it enjoys the shade and beauty which 
the schools are securing for it. 

Moncure D. Conway, Extract from Letter. 



Under the reign of the Moorish caliphs the Iberian peninsula resembled a 
vast garden, yielding grain and fruit of every known variety, in the most per- 
fect quality, and in endless abundance. But then the Sierras and the mountain 
slopes were covered with a luxuriant growth of timber, which was afterward 
wantonly destroyed under the rule of kings. Now nearly all the plateau lands 
of Spain are desert-like and unfit for agriculture, because of the scarcity of rain 
and the want of water. The once delicious climate has become changeable and 
rough. The average depth of the rivers is greatly diminished. The political 
decadence of Spain has even been attributed to the destruction of the forests. 



Of the infinite variety of fruits which spring from the bosom of the earth, 
the trees of the wood are greatest in dignity. Of all the works of the creation 
which know the changes of life and death, the trees of the forest have the 
longest existence. Of all the objects which crown the gray earth, the woods 
preserve unchanged, throughout the greatest reach of time, their native 
character. | The works of man are ever varying their aspect; his towns and 
his fields alike reflect the unstable opinions, the fickle wills and fancies of each 
passing generation; but the forests on his borders remain to-da)' the same as they 
were ages of years since. Old as the everlasting hills, during thousands of 
seasons they have put forth and laid down their verdure in calm obedience to 
the decree which first bade them cover the ruins of the Deluge. 

Susan Fenimore Cooper. Riiral Hours. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



27 



ARBOR DAY POEM. 

Written and recited at the planting of the Buffalo " Normal Class tree,' 
April 26, 1889, by Mrs. Anna R. Pride. 

COME thou, my ofttimes sadly labored muse, 
Infuse my pen with fire to meetly sing 
A strain befitting this empiric rite, 
A song that voices all the zeal we bring. 
Thou knowest the theme and needst not warrior shield, 
No song of valor nor of love I ween 
Shall be the task for which thine aid to yield, — 
Just clothe my song with bright and classic green. 

Thou little tree with sturdy northern face, 
From Borealis' fir-clad, ice-crowned zone, 
Knowest thou the honor that we relegate 
In planting thee thus for our very own ? 
We hollow out thy resting place with care ; 
Thy rootlets coil beneath thy shining head ; 
While sixty pairs of hands the task divide, 
To make thy vernal and historic bed. 

Class tree, classical and classed art thou 
Now, with the evergreen and ancient yew 
That time has planted for a horologue, 
To watch these Normal classes come and go. 
Take heart of all that here with thee we plant 
Bright dreams, hopes as Parnassus' crown, 
Wealth of devotion, deep as St5^gian stream, 
O'er which brave souls pass on to high renown. 

Drink rootlets of the Ambrosial wine we pour 

Till youth immortal permeates thy heart ; 

Be thou milestone on path of life, 

That points the march of those that choose the better part. 

The migratory flocks that seek thy shade, 

Whether to build a tome or build a nest, 

Shall find a potent, soothing, magic charm 

That woos them all invitingly to rest. 

We place the turf around thy form, and go 

Not as sad mourners leaving buried dust; 

But hopeful, waiting for a crowning day, 

Perfection cometh aye for those that trust. 

We plant thee in the century's jubilee, 

Trusting thy years may not have reached their prime, 

When other bards shall swell the glorious lay 

The nation's natal day in nineteen eighty-nine. 



^8 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Blow strong west wind with hopeful vigor fraught, 
But spare our pillars grand, our turrets high, 
And send thy vivifying aid to live, and grow, 
Down where our class tree's buried life-germs lie. 
And sunny skies smile after showers have kissed 
Dust from the leaflets' trembling form away, 
And keep our tree from blight and death, to greet 
The dawn of each returning Arbor Day. 



WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. 

WOODMAN, spare that tree ! / f 

Touch not a single 4***! IhrvuVK/- 






Touch not a single fe^w ! 
In youth it sheltered me, 

And TH protect it now. 
'T was my forefather's hand 

That placed it near his cot 
There, woodman, let it stand ; 

Thy ax shall harm it not ! 

That old familiar tree, 

Whose glory and renown 
Are spread o'er land and sea, — 

And wouldst thou hack it down ? 
Woodman, forbear thy stroke ! 

Cut not its earth-bound ties ; 
O, spare that aged oak, 

Now towering to the skies ! 

When but an idle boy 

I sought its grateful shade ; 
In all their gushing joy, 

Here, too, my sisters played. 
My mother kissed me here ; 

My father pressed my hand — 
Forgive the foolish tear; 

But let that old oak stand. 

My heart-strings round thee cling, 

Close as thy bark, old friend; 
Here shall the wild-bird sing, 

And still thy branches bend. 
Old tree ! the storm still brave ! 

And, woodman, leave the spot ; 
While I've a hand to save, 

Thy ax shall harm it not. 

George P. Morris. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



29 



"WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE." 

HISTORY OF THE POEM. 

1 TEACHERS may give pupils the following account of the way in which Mr. 
Morris came to write the poem, "Woodman, Spare that Tree." The 
poem may then be memorized by all the pupils, and recited or sung on "Arbor 
Day." Mr. Morris, in a letter to a friend, dated New York, February 1, 1837, 
gave in substance the following account : 

Riding out of town a few days since, in company with a friend, an old gentle- 
man, he invited me to turn down a little, romantic woodland pass, not far from 
Bloomingdale. "Your object?" inquired I. "Merely to look once more at an 
old tree planted by my grandfather long before I was born, under which I used 
to play when a boy, and where my sisters played with me. There I often lis- 
tened to the good advice of my parents. Father, mother, sisters — all are gone ; 
nothing but the old tree remains." And a paleness overspread his fine counte- 
nance, and tears came to his eyes. After a moment's pause, he added : " Don't 
think me foolish. I don't know how it is : I never ride out but I turn down 
this lane to look at that old tree. 1 have a thousand recollections about it, and 
I always greet it as a familiar and well-remembered friend." These words were 
scarcely uttered when the old gentleman cried out, "There it is." Near the 
tree stood a man with his coat off, sharpening an ax. " You're not going to 
cut that tree down, surely?" Yes, but I am, though," said the woodman. 
"What for?" inquired the old gentleman, with choked emotion. "What for? 
I like that! Well, I will tell 3 r ou, I want the tree for fire wood." "What is 
the tree worth to you for fire wood? " " Why, when down, about ten dollars." 
"Suppose I should give you that sum," said the old gentleman, "would you 
let it stand?" "Yes." "You are sure of that?" "Positive!" "Then give 
me a bond to that effect." We went into the little cottage in which my com- 
panion was born, but which is now occupied by the woodman. I drew up the 
bond. It was signed, and the money paid over. As we left, the young girl, 
the daughter of the woodman, assured us that while she lived the tree should 
not be cut. These circumstances made a strong impression on my mind, and 
furnished me with the materials for the song I send you. 



The objects of the restoration of the forests are as multifarious as the motives 
which have led to their destruction, and as the evils which that destruction has 
occasioned. The planting of the mountains will diminish the frequency and 
violence of river inundations ; prevent the formation of torrents ; mitigate the 
extremes of atmospheric temperature, humidity and precipitation; restore 
dried-up springs, rivulets and sources of irrigation ; shelter the fields from 
chilling and from parching winds ; prevent the spread of miasmatic effluvia; 
and, finally, furnish an inexhaustible and self-renewing supply of material 
indispensable to so many purposes of domestic comfort, to the successful exer- 
cise of every act of peace, every destructive energy of war. 

George P. Marsh, " Man and Nature." 



3° 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



PUSSY AND THE POPPIES. 

POPPIES red, and pink, and white, 
In my grandma's garden beds, 
'Gainst the green you look so bright ; 

How you dance and nod your heads ! 

Little kittie, ball of fuzz, 

(Brightest eyes I ever saw !) 
If you try to make him buzz, 

That old bee will sting your paw. 

You're a lazy pussy cat, 

Watching poppies bow and sway; 
Breezes make them bend like that, 

They don't do it for your play. 

Only see how fast I sew ! 

Grandma said to piece this square ; 
It's no time to play, you know, 

Till you've done your work all fair. 

You should go and catch the mice 

In my grandpa's corn and meal. 
If you take my good advice, 

Only think how proud you -11 feel. 

There's my grandma calling me ! 

Oh, what ever shall I do ? 
For my seam's not done, you see, 

Here I've sat and scolded you. 

Youth's Companion. 



THE WILLOW TREE. 

TREE of the gloom, o'erhanging the tomb, 
Thou seem'st to love the churchyard sod ; 
Thou art ever found on the charnel ground, 
Where the laughing and happy have rarely trod. 
When thy branches trail to the wintry gale, 
Thy wailing is sad to the hearts of men, 
When the world is bright in a summer's light, 
'Tis only the wretched that love thee then. 
The golden moth and the shining bee 
Will seldom rest on the willow tree. 

Eliza Cook. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



31 



THE ORCHARD. 

ITS seeds were in the clearing sown, 
It felt the vigorous soil; 
Long since to massive grandeur grown, 

It paid the settler's toil. 
There blossoms by the breeze released, 

Fall in a sweet May shower, 
There autumn brings its dainty feast, 
To grace Pomona's bower. 

The earliest whispers of the spring, 

Its branches linger through; 
There ever did the bluebird bring 

The sweetest notes it knew. 
The robin seeks its lusty arms 

Outstretched in kindest way; 
The bobolink amidst its charms 

Sings through the long June day. 

But not to song bird all alone, 

An Eden it appears ; 
What place has childhood ever known 

That memory more endears. 
Perhaps affection's early gleam 

Imparts more vivid glow 
But there the blossoms whitest seem, 

The apples fairest grow. 

There boyhood climbed the topmost bough, 

To pluck the finest fruit ; 
While girlhood, flushed on cheek and brow, 

Came eager in pursuit ; 
But he, allured by witching eyes, 

To her the prize has thrown — 
Blame not, for never yet more wise 

Has manhood ever grown. 

In later years, when bending low 

With fruit of green and gold, 
Did not the listening branches know 

The tale of love they told? 
Did not the trees in murmuring speech 

Recall some moonlight stroll, 
Where joyful eyes flashed back to each 

The lovelight of the soul ? 



32 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 

With artist thought, fair autumn blends 

The sunbeam and the dew ; 
And to the weighted orchard lends 

Fresh lustre, deeper hue ; 
Till in the golden mist of fall, 

Or sunset's richer glow, 
No rural picture of them all 

More beautiful we know. 

Albany Journal. 



THE FOUR SISTERS. 

THERE will come a maiden soon, I ween, 
Dressed in a cloak of palest green ; 
The robins follow her gentle call, 
And wild-flowers bloom where her footsteps fail 

There will come another with stately tread, 
In lilies and roses garlanded ; 
Her breath is the essence of all things sweet, 
And she carries a sheaf of golden wheat. 

A third will come dressed in a nut-brown suit, 

Her lap all filled with yellow fruit ; 

Around her brow are autumn leaves, 

And she makes her way 'mid vines and sheaves. 

Lastly a snow-white maiden fair 
Will come bedecked with diamonds rare; 
She will put the others to rest complete, 
And wrap them all in a winding-sheet. 



MAY MORNING. 

NOW the bright morning star, day's harbinger, 
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 

Hail bounteous May ! that dost inspire 
Mirth and youth, and warm desire ; 
Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
And welcome thee and wish thee long. 

Milton. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



33 



OUR ALMANAC. 

ROBINS in the tree-tops, 
Blossoms in the grass ; 
Green things a-growing 

Everywhere you pass ; 
Sudden little breezes ; 

Showers of silver dew ; 
Black bough and bent twig 

Budding out anew ! 
Pine-tree and willow-tree, 

Fringed elm and larch, 
Don't you think that May-time's 

Pleasanter than March ? 

Apples in the orchard, 

Mellowing one by one ; 
Strawberries upturning 

Soft cheeks to the sun ; 
Roses, faint with sweetness ; 

Lilies, fair of face ; 
Drowsy scents and murmurs 

Haunting every place. 
Lengths of golden sunshine ; 

Moonlight bright as day — 
Don't you think that Summer's 

Pleasanter than May? 
• 
Roger in the corn-patch, 

Whistling negro songs; 
Pussy by the hearth-side, 

Romping with the tongs ; 
Chestnuts in the ashes, 

Bursting through the rind; 
Red-leaf and gold-leaf, 

Rustling down the wind ; 
Mother doing peaches 

All the afternoon — 
Don't you think that Autumn's 

Pleasanter than June ? 

Little fairy snow-flakes, 
Dancing in the flue ; 

Old Mr. Santa Claus, 

What is keeping you ? 

Twilight and firelight ; 

Shadows come and go ; 
3 



34 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



Merry chime of sleigh-bells, 

Tinkling through the snow ; 
Mother knitting stockings, 

(Pussy has the ball !) 
Don't you think that Winter's 

Pleasanter than all ? 

Thomas Bailey Aldricii. 



TALKING IN THEIR SLEEP. 



" \ /OU think I am dead," 
The apple-tree said, 



Y' 



" Because I have never a leaf to show — 

Because I stoop, 

And my branches droop, 
And the dull gray mosses over me grow ! 
But I'm all alive in trunk and shoot ; 

The buds of next May 

I fold away — 
But I pity the withered grass at my root." 

"You think I am dead," 

The quick grass said, 
" Because I have started with stem and blade ! 

But under the ground 

I am safe and sound 
With the snow's thick blanket over me laid. 
I'm all alive, and ready to shoot, 

Should the spring of the year 

Come dancing here — 
But I pity the flower without branch or root." 

" You think I am dead," 
A soft voice said, 
" Because not a branch or root I own ! 
I never have died, 
But close I hide, 
In a plumy seed that the wind has sown, 
Patient I wait through the long winter hours ; 
You will see me again — 
I shall laugh at you then, 
Out of the eyes of a hundred flowers." 

Edith M. Thomas, in St. Nicholas. 



" All the trees have torches lit." 

LUCY Larcom's "Indian Summer. 



ARBOR DA Y MAX UAL. 



35 



THE POPULAR POPLAR TREE. 

WHEN the great wind sets things whirling, 
And rattles the window-panes, 
And blows the dust in giants 

And dragons tossing their manes; 
When the willows have waves like water, 
And children are shouting with glee ; 
When the pines are alive and the larches, — 

Then hurrah for you and me, 
In the tip o' the top o' the top o' the tip of the popular poplar tree ! 

Don't talk about Jack and the Beanstalk — 

He did not climb half so high ! 
And Alice in all her travels 

Was never so near the sky! 
Only the swallow, a-skimming 

The storm-cloud over the lea, 
Knows how it feels to be flying — » 

When the gusts come strong and free — 
In the tip o' the top o' the top o' the tip of the popular poplar tree ! 

Blanch Willis Howard. 



FALL SONG. 



THE ash-berry clusters are darkly red ; 
The leaves of the chestnut are almost shed ; 
The wild grape hangs out her purple fruit ; 
The maple puts on her brightest suit. 

The boys chase the squirrel from tree to tree : 
' There are nuts," says the squirrel, " for you and for me 
The boys hear the chatter — the squirrel is gone; 
They shout and they peer, but he's seen by none. 

After a silence, the wind complains, 
Like a creature longing to burst its chains ; 
The swallows, are gone, I saw them gather, 
I heard them murmuring of the weather. 

The clouds move fast, the south is blowing, 
The sun is slanting, the year is going; 
Oh, I love to walk where the leaves lie dead, 
And hear them rustle beneath my tread ! 



36 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE RETURN OF MAY. 

HAIL ! fair queen, adorned with flow 
Attended by the smiling hours ! 
Tis thine to dress the rosy bowers, 

In colors gay. 
We love to wander in thy train, 
To meet thee on the fertile plain, 
To bless thy soft propitious reign, 
O lovely May ! 

'Tis thine to dress the vale anew 
In fairest verdure bright with dew ; 
And harebells of the mildest blue 

Smile on thy way. 
Then let us welcome pleasant spring, 
And still the flowery tribute bring, 
And still to thee our carol sing, 

® lovely May. 

Now, by the genial zephyr fanned, 
The blossoms of the rose expand ; 
And, reared by thee with gentle hand, 

Their charms display. 
The air is balmy and serene, 
And all the sweet, luxuriant scene- 
By thee is clad in tender green, 

O lovely May ! 



Mrs. Hemans. 



ROBIN AND CHICKEN. 

A PLUMP little robin flew down from the tree, 
To hunt for a worm which he happened to see. 
A frisky young chicken came scampering by 
And gazed at the robin with wondering eye. 

Said the chicken : " What a queer-looking chicken is that: 
Its wings are so long and its body so fat ! " 
While the robin remarked loud enough to be heard : 
" Dear me ! an exceedingly strange-looking bird ! " 

" Can you sing? " robin asked, and the chicken said : 'No, " 
But asked in its turn if the robin could crow. 
So the bird sought a tree and the chicken a wall, 
And each thought the other knew nothing at all. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 7 



LESSON OF THE LEAVES. 

HOW do the leaves grow- 
In spring upon their stem ? 
The sap swells up with a drop for all, 
And that is life to them. 

What do the leaves do 

Through the long summer hours ? 
Thej' make a home for the singing birds, 

A shelter for the flowers. 

How do the leaves fade 

Beneath the autumn blast? 
Oh, fairer they grow before they die, 

Their brightest is their last. 

How are we like leaves? 

O children weak and small, 
God knows each leaf of the forest shade, 

He knows you each and all. 

Never a leaf falls 

Until its part is done. 
God gives us grace like sap and dew, 

Some work to every one. 

You must grow old too, 

Beneath the autumn sky; 
But lovelier and brighter your lives may glow, 

Like leaves before they die. 

Brighter with kind deeds, 

With hope and gladness given; 

Till the leaf falls down from the withered tree, 
And the spirit is in heaven ! 



UNDER the yaller pines I house, 
When sunshine makes them all sweet scented, 
An hear among their furry boughs 

The baskin' west wind purr contented. 

Lowell, Biglow Papers. 



33 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE VOICE OF THE GR(AJSS. 

HERE I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
By the dusty road-side, 
On the sunny hill-side, 
Close by the noisy brook, 
In every shady nook, 
I come creeping, creeping everywhere. 

Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 

All around the open door, 

Where sit the aged poor, 

Here where the children play 

In the bright and merry May, 
I come creeping, creeping everywhere. 

Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 

In the noisy city street, 

My pleasant face you'll meet, 

Cheering the sick at heart, 

Toiling his busy part — 
Silently creeping, creeping everywhere. 

Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 

You cannot see me coming, 

Nor hear my low sweet humming ; 

For in the starry night, 

And the glad morning light, 
I come quietly creeping, creeping everywhere. 

Here I come, creeping, creeping eve^where. 

More welcome than the flowers, 

In summer's pleasant hours. 

The gentle cow is glad, 

And the merry bird not sad, 
To see me creeping, creeping everywhere. 

Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 

When you're numbered with the dead, 

In your still and narrow bed, 

In the happy spring I'll come 

And deck your silent home — 
Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 

Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 

My humble song of praise 

Most joyfully I'll raise 

To Him at whose command 

1 beautify the land — 
Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 

Sarah Roberts. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



39 



ROBIN 'S COME. 

FROM the elm-tree's topmost bough, 
Hark ! the robin's early song ! 
Telling one and all that now 

Merry spring-time hastes along. 
Welcome tidings dost thou bring, 
Little harbinger of Spring : 
Robin 's come. 

Of the Winter we are weary, 

Weary of the frost and snow ; 

Longing for the sunshine cheery, 

And the brooklet's gurgling flow. 

Gladly then we hear thee sing 

The joyful reveille of Spring : 
Robin 's come. 

Ring it out o'er hill and plain, 

Through the garden's lonely bowers, 
Till the green leaves dance again, 

Till the air is sweet with flowers ! 
Wake the cowslips by the rill ; 
Wake the yellow daffodil : 
Robin 's come. 

Singing still in yonder lane, 

Robin answers merrily; 
Ravished by the sweet refrain, 

Alice clasps her hands in glee, 
Calling from the open door, 
With her soft voice, o'er and o'er, 
" Robin 's come." 



* * The hills, 

Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun ; the vales, 
Stretching in pensive quietness between; 
The venerable woods ; rivers that move 
In majesty, and the complaining brooks, 
That make the meadows green; and poured round all, 
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — 
Are but the solemn decorations all 
Of the great tomb of man. * * 

Bryant's Thanatopsis. 



4Q 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



FOREIGN LANDS. 

UP into the cherry-tree 
Who should climb but little me ? 
I held the trunk with both my hands, 
And looked abroad on foreign lands. 

I saw the next-door garden lie, 
Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 
And man3 r pleasant places more 
That I had never seen before. 

I saw the dimpling river pass 
And be the sky's blue looking-glass ; 
And dusty roads go up and down, 
And people tramping into town. 

]f I could find a higher tree, 
Farther and farther I could see, 
To where the grown-up river slips 
Into the sea among the ships — 

To where the roads on either hand 
Lead onward into fairy-land, 
Where all the children dine at five, 
And all the playthings are alive. 



GOD PROVIDETH FOR THE MORROW. 

LO ! the lilies of the field, 
How their leaves instruction yield ; 
Hark to nature's lesson, given 
By the blessed birds of heaven ! 
Every bush and tufted tree 
Warbles sweet philosophy : 

"Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow; 
God provideth for the morrow. 

" Say. with richer crimson glows 
The kingly mantle or the rose ? 
Say, have kings more wholesome fare 
Than we poor citizens of air? 
Barns nor hoarded grain have we, 
Yet we carol merrily : 

Mortal, flee from doubt and sorrow; 

God provideth for the morrow.' 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



41 



FOREST SONG. 

A SONG for the beautiful trees ! 
A song for the forest grand, 
The garden of God's own land, 
The pride of His centuries. 
Hurrah ! for the kingly oak, 

For the maple, the sylvan queen, 
For the lords of the emerald cloak, 



For the beautiful trees a song, 
The peers of a glorious realm, 
The linden, the ash, and the elm, 

The poplar stately and strong. 

Hurrah ! for the beech-tree trim, 
For the hickory stanch at core, 

For the locust thorny and grim, 
For the silvery sycamore. 

A song for the palm, — the pine, 
And for every tree that grows 
From the desolate zone of snows 

To the zone of the burning line. 

Hurrah ! for the warders proud 
Of the mountain-side and vale, 

That challenge the thunder-cloud, 
And buffet the stormy gale. 

A song for the forest aisled, 

With its gothic roof sublime, 
The solemn temple of time, 

Where man becometh a child, 

As he lists to the anthem-roll 
Of the wind in the solitude, 

The hymn which telleth his soul 

That God is the voice of the wood. 

So long as the rivers flow, 

So long as the mountains rise, 
Ma)' the forest sing to the skies, 

And shelter the earth below. 

Hurrah ! for the beautiful trees, 
Hurrah ! for the forest grand, 

The pride of His centuries, 

The garden of God's own land. 



W. H. Venable. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



PLANTED. 

I HELD my baby on my knee, 
My blue-eyed Bessie, three years old; 
She laid her dimpled cheek on mine, 
And in my ear her trouble told. 

" Papa, pease may me go to school, 

Like sister Nell and Tatie Snow? " 
Then as I smiled she begged again, 

With kisses sweet, "Pease may me go? 

' When Bessie grows as large as Nell, 

Then she may go to school," I said. 
But mother's words and father's rules 

Are quite enough for this small head." 

She said no more, but sat awhile 

"Thinking her think," then ran away; 

And as I .turned to work again, 

I heard her in the yard at play. 

Then mother called, " Come, Bessie, come ; 

'Tis time to go to sleep, you know." — 
"O dear mamma, pease let me stay ! 

I'se panted, 'tause I want to grow." 

'Twas true ! for there our baby stood, 
With feet fast planted in the ground, 

While water-pot and garden tool, 

Ready for use, lay scattered round. 

On mother's second call she came, 

With rumpled dress and muddy shoe, 

And looking up quite grieved, she said, 
" Why tan't me grow, as flowers do ? " 



When April winds 
Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush 
Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up, 
Opened, in airs of June, her multitude 
Of golden chalices to humming birds 
And silken wing'd insects of the sky. 

Bryant, The Fountain. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE FLOWER OF LIBERTY. 

WHAT flower is this that greets the morn, 
Its hues from heaven so freshly born ? 
With burning star and flaming band 
It kindles all the sunset land : 
O tell us what its name may be, — 
Is this the flower of liberty ? 
It is the banner of the free, 
The starry flower of liberty ! 

In savage nature's far abode 

Its tender seeds our fathers sowed ; 

The storm-winds rocked its swelling bud, 

Its opening leaves were streaked with blood, 

Till lo ! earth's tyrants shook to see 

The full-blown flower of liberty ! 

Then hail the banner of the free, 

The starry flower of liberty ! 

Behold its streaming rays unite, 
One mingling flood of braided light, — 
The red that fires the southern rose, 
With spotless white from northern rose, 
And, spangled o'er its azure, see 
The sister stars of liberty ! 

Then hail the banner of the free, 

The starry flower of liberty ! 

The blades of heroes fence it round, 
Where'er it springs is holy ground ; 
From tower and dome its glories spread ; 
It waves where lonely sentries tread ; 
It makes the land as ocean free, 
And plants an empire on the sea ! 

Then hail the banner of the free, 

The starry flower of liberty ! 

Thy sacred leaves, fair freedom's flower, 
Shall ever float on dome and tower, 
To all their heavenly colors true, 
In blackening frost or crimson dew, — 
And God love us as we love thee, 
Thrice holy flower of liberty ! 

Then hail the banner of the free, 

The starry flower of liberty ! 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



44 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



MIDSUMMER. 

THROUGH all the long midsummer day 
The meadow-sides are sweet with hay. 
] seek the coolest sheltered seat 
Just where the field and forest meet, 
Where grow the pine-trees tall and bland, 
The ancient oaks austere and grand, 
And fringy roots and pebbles fret 
The ripples of the rivulet. 

I watch the mowers as they go 
Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved row; 
With even stroke their scythes they swing, 
In tune their merry whetstones ring; 
Behind, the nimble youngsters run 
And toss the thick swaths in the sun ; 
The cattle graze; while, warm and still, 
Slopes the broad pasture, basks the hill, 
And bright, when summer breezes break, 
The green wheat crinkles like a lake. 

The butterfly and humble-bee 
Come to the pleasant woods with me , 
Quickly before me runs the quail, 
The chickens skulk behind the rail, 
High up the lone wood-pigeon sits, 
And the wood-pecker pecks and flits. 

Sweet woodland music sinks and swells, 
The brooklet rings its tinkling bells, 
The swarming insects drone and hum, 
The partridge beats his throbbing drum, 
The squirrel leaps among the boughs, 
And chatters in his leafy house, 
The oriole flashes by ; and, look ! 
Into the mirror of the brook, 
Where the vain blue-bird trims his coat, 
Two tiny feathers fall and float. 

As silently, as tenderly, 

The dawn of peace descends on me. 

Oh, this is peace ! I have no need 

Of friend to talk, of book to read: 

A dear Companion here abides ; 

Close to my thrilling heart He hides; 

The holy silence is His voice : 

I lie and listen, and rejoice. J. T. Trowbridge. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 45 



THE AWAKENING YEAR. 

THE bluebirds and the violets 
Are with us once again, 
And promises of summer spot 
The hillside and the plain. 

The clouds around the mountain tops 

Are riding on the breeze, 
Their trailing azure trains of mist 

Are tangled in the trees. 

The snow-drifts, which have lain so long 

Haunting the hidden nooks, 
Like guilty ghosts have slipped away 

Unseen, into the brooks. 

The streams are fed with generous rains, 

They drink the wayside springs, 
And flutter down from crag to crag, 

Upon their foamy wings. 

Through all the long, wet nights they brawl, 

By mountain homes remote, 
Till woodmen in their sleep behold 

Their ample rafts afloat. 

The lazy wheel that hung so dry 

Above the idle stream, 
Whirls wildly in the misty dark, 

And through the miller's dream. 

Loud torrent unto torrent calls, 

Till at the mountain's feet, 
Flashing afar their spectral light, 

The noisy waters meet. 

They meet, and through the lowlands sweep 

Toward briny bay and lake, 

Proclaiming to the distant towns, 

"The country is awake." 

Thomas Buchanan Read. 



THE moon shines bright:— In such a night as this, 
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, 
And they did make no noise. 

Merchant of Venice, Act V, Sc. 1. 



46 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE VINE AND THE OAK. 

A VINE was growing beside a thrifty oak, and had just reached that height 
at which it requires support. " Oak," said the vine, " bend your trunk so 
that you may be a support to me." 

" My support," replied the oak, " is naturally yours, and you may rely on my 
strength to bear you up ; but I am too large and too solid to bend. Put your 
arms around me, my pretty vine, and I will manfully support and cherish you, 
if you have an ambition to climb as high as the clouds. 

"While I thus hold you up, you will ornament my rough trunk with your 
prett}^ green leaves and shining scarlet berries. We were made by the Master 
of Life to grow together, that by our union the weak may be made strong, and 
the strong render aid to the weak." 

"But I wish to grow independently," said the vine; "wb.3'' cannot you twine 
around me, and let me grow up straight, and not be a mere dependent on you ? " 

"Nature," answered the oak, "did not so design it. It is impossible that you 
should grow to aii3 r height alone ; and if you try it, the winds and the rain, if 
not your own weight, will bring you to the ground. 

" Neither is it proper for } r ou to run your arms hither and thither among the 
trees. They will say, 'It is not my vine — it is a stranger — get thee gone; I 
will not cherish thee ! ' By this time thou wilt be so entangled among the 
different branches that thou canst not get back to the oak, and nobody will 
then admire thee or pity thee." 

" Ah, me," said the vine, " let me escape from such a destiny; " and she twined 
herself around the oak, and they grew and flourished happily together. 



THE UNFADING EVERGREEN. 

HOW bright the unfading evergreen, 
Amid the forest trees ! 
In Summer and Winter there 'tis seen 
To wave to the passing breeze. 
And may I be so like to thee, 

never fading tree ! 

That all may feel, in woe or weal, 

1 shall unchanging be. 

How bright the unfading evergreen, 

Amid the forest trees ! 

In Summer and Winter there 'tis seen, 

To wave to the passing breeze. 

Ever, ever may I be seen 

Like to the beauteous evergreen. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



RACE OF THE FLOWERS. 

I^HE trees and the flowers seem running a race, 
But none treads down the other; 
And neither thinks it his disgrace 
To be later than his brother. 

Yet the pear tree shouts to the lilac tree, 

" Make haste, for the Spring is late ! 
And the lilac tree whispers to the chestnut tree, 

Because he is so great, 
Pray you, great sir, be quick, be quick, 
Far down below we are blossoming thick ! " 

Then the chestnut hears and comes out in bloom — 
White, or pink, to the tip-top boughs — 

Oh why not grow higher, there's plenty of room, 
You beautiful tree, with the sky for your house? 

Then like music they seem to burst out together, 
The little and the big, with a beautiful burst; 
They sweeten the wind, they paint the weather, 
And no one remembers which was first ; 
White rose, red rose, 
Bud rose, shed rose, 
Larkspur, and lilac, and the rest, 
North, south, east, west, 
June, July, August, September! — 

Ever so late in the year will come, 

Many a red geranium, 

And sunflowers up to November ! 

Then the Winter has overtaken .nem all, 
The fogs and the rains begin to fall, 
And the flowers after running their races, 
Are weary, and shut up their little faces, 
And under the ground they go to sleep. 
Is it very far down ? Yes ever so deep. 



GOLDEN ROD. 

WAY down in the meadow, and close by the brook- 
If ever you take the trouble to look, 
A plant you will see that shows in the light 
With its green and gold so gay and bright, 
Nodding and tossing its head in pride, 
As if it were queen of the meadow wide. 
That beautiful blossom, so tall and odd, 
Is the bloom of the plant called golden rod. 



4 8 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE OLD TREE. 

OLD tree, how low you seem to stoop, 
How much your trunk is bent; 
Why don't you make a rise and grow 
Up straight, as you were meant? 

And has the old tree found a voice ? 

And does it speak and sigh ? 
No ! 'twas the soft sweet wind that came 

To stir its leaves on high. 

But still the young boy thought he heard 

The old tree sigh, " Too late ! 
When I was young it was the time 

To come and bend me straight. 

They should have bound me to a prop, 
And made me straight and fast ; 

A child like you could bend me then, 
But now my time is past ! 

No use for men to waste their strength, 

And pull with ropes at me ; 
They could not move my stem an inch, 

For bent I still must be." 

And then the soft wind came once more, 

And set the leaves at play, 
So that the young boy thought he heard 

The old tree sigh and say: 

O child ! be wise while you are young, 

Nor bend nor stoop to sin ! 
Drive out the bad thoughts from your heart, 

And keep the good ones in ! 

1 Don't think you may be bad in youth, 
And one day change your plan ; 

Just what you grow up from a child, 
You will be as a man. 

1 No use to try, when you are old, 

To mend and grow up straight ; 
For all good men that pass you then 
Will sigh and say, 'Too late ! ' 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



49 



Take for your prop the book of God, 

And by its rules be bound; 
And let the wise words of your friends 

Be stakes to fence you round. 

So straight and strong you shall be found, 

A joy and praise to see ; 
And one day, in the courts of God, 

You'll stand a fair young tree." 



MY ELM TREE. 

IT stands alone, on the brow of a little hill, not far from my door. The sight 
of it gives me so much pleasure, that I have learned to love it as if it were 
a human friend. I go often to visit it. 

It is a magnificent tree. The trunk rises high in a single stem, then divides 
into three principal branches. These three great branches grow gradually 
farther and farther apart, then bend rapidly outward with an easy sweep, and 
finally divide into a number of smaller branches. 

Of these smaller branches, the lower or under ones bend down toward the 
ground in graceful curves, and, dividing into many branchlets and twigs, form the 
drooping boughs of the tree. The upper ones grow erect, and their branchlets 
and twigs, spreading out and bending in all directions, make the airy top of the tree. 

In the summer-time this lovely tree is covered with dark green leaves. It rests 
the eye to look at it, and it is a delight to sit under it. But it is not in summer 
only that it is beautiful. In the autumn its leaves turn to a sober brown, 
touched here and there with bright golden-yellow; and, when the sun shines 
on it, it is glorious to behold. 

When the rude autumn winds have stripped it of its leaves it is still pleasant 
to watch the graceful branches swaying in the wind; and then, too, I can see 
the birds' nests, which the leaves have hidden during the summer. Almost 
always there are one or two orioles' nests, swinging like little bags from the 
ends of the long slender branches. 

The earliest spring flowers blossom under my elm tree. But the dear old 
tree is not to be outdone by the little plants at its foot, for it puts forth its 
blossoms as soon as they. Its flowers always come before its leaves. They 
are very tiny flowers, of a yellowish hue, and grow in small clusters on the 
sides of the twigs. 

The flowers are soon followed by the seeds, which ripen and fall just as the 
leaves come out. The leaves are rather small and dark green, and grow on 
short stems called foot-stalks. They are, almost all of them, oval in shape, and 
have a slender point at the apex. The under side of the leaf is whitish and 
hairy, and the ribs show very plainly. 

All elm trees are not shaped just as mine is; but any boy or girl can always 
tell an elm tree by its graceful, curving branches, and slender drooping twigs. 

Rebecca D. Rickoff. 
4 



5Q 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. 

JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT 
Preaches to-day, 
Under the green trees 
Just over the way. 
Squirrel and song-sparrow, 

High on their perch, 
Hear the sweet lily-bells 
Ringing to church. 

Come, hear what his reverence, 

Rises to say, 
In his low, painted pulpit, 

This calm Sabbath day. 
Fair is the canopy 

Over him seen, 
Penciled, by nature's hand, 

Black, brown and green ; 
Green is his surplice, . 

Green are his bands ; 
In his queer little pulpit 

The little priest stands. 

In black and gold velvet, 

So gorgeous to see, 
Comes with his bass voice, 

The chorister bee. 
Green fingers playing 

Unseen on wind-lyres; 
Low, singing-bird voices; 

These are his choirs. 

The violets are deacons ; 

I know by the sign 
That the cups which they carry 

Are purple with wine. 
And the columbines bravely 

As sentinels stand 
On the lookout, with all their 

Red trumpets in hand. 

Meek-faced anemones, 

Drooping and sad ; 
Great yellow violets, 

Smiling out glad ; 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 5 1 

Buttercups' faces, 

Beaming and bright; 
Clovers, with bonnets — 

Some red and some white ; 
Daisies, their white fingers 

Half clasped in prayer; 
Dandelions, proud of 

The gold of their hair; 

Innocents, children 

Guileless and frail, 
Meek little faces 

Upturned and pale; 
Wild-wood geraniums, 

All in their best, 
Languidly leaning 

In purple gauze dressed ; 
All are assembled, 

This sweet Sabbath day, 
To hear what the priest 

In his pulpit will say. 

Whittier. 



THE GOLDEN ROD. 

ALL hail the lovely golden rod, 
The dusty roadside fringing ! 
Midst grasses tall its gray crests nod, 
The world with glory tingeing. 

Its fluffy blossoms manifold, 

The swampy meadows flecking, 
Weave tapestry of cloth of gold, 

The fields with splendor decking. 

Along the dark old forest's edge 

The yellow plumes are streaming, 
And through the thick and tangled hedge, 

The golden wands are gleaming. 

The lakeside slope is all aglow, 

Where golden rod is drooping, 
Bright mirrored in the depths below 

In many a graceful grouping. 

Eva J. Beede. 



52 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



THE ANXIOUS LEAF. 



ONCE upon a time a little leaf was heard to sigh and cry ( as leaves often do 
when a gentle wind is about. And the twig said, "What is the matter, 
little leaf?" 

And the leaf said, "The wind just told me that one day it would pull me off 
and throw me down to die on the ground ! " 

The twig told it to the branch on which it grew, and the branch told it to the 
tree. And when the tree heard it, it rustled all over, and sent back word to 
the leaf, " Do not be afraid ; hold on tightly, and you shall not go till you want to." 

And so the leaf stopped sighing, but went on nestling and singing. Every 
time the tree shook itself and stirred up all its leaves, the branches shook 
themselves, and the little twig shook itself, and the little leaf danced up and 
down merrily, as if nothing could ever pull it off. And so it grew all summer 
long till October. 

And when the bright days of autumn came, the little leaf saw all the leaves 
around becoming very beautiful. Some were yellow and some scarlet, and some 
striped with both colors. Then it asked the tree what it meant? And the tree 
said, "All these leaves are getting ready to flyaway, and they have put on these 
beautiful colors because of joy." 

Then the little leaf began to want to go too, and grew very beautiful in think- 
ing of it, and when it was very gay in color, it saw that the branches of the 
tree had no bright color in them, and so the leaf said, "O branches ! why are 
you lead color and we golden ? " 

"We must keep on our work clothes, for our life is not done; but your 
clothes are for holiday, because j^our tasks are over," said the branches. 

Just then, a little puff of wind came, and the leaf let go, without thinking of 
it, and the wind took it up, and turned it over and over, and whirled it like a 
spark of fire in the air, and then it dropped gently down under the edge of the 
fence among hundreds of leaves, and fell into a dream, and never waked up to 
tell what it dreamed about. 



"Nature never did betray 
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, 
Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 
The mind that is within us, so impress 
With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
Rash judgments, nor sneers of selfish men, 
Nor greetings where no kindness is ; nor all 
The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our cheerful faith that all which we behold 
Is full of blessing." . 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



53 



MAY MORNING. 

FOR SIX GIRLS. 

GREETED me at early day, 
Groups of girls the fields adorning 
Wreathing for their queen of May, 
Blossoms of the morning. 

Cease, I cried, o'er hill and heath, 

Wasting thus the fragrant hours; 

I can make a fairer wreath — 
You shall be the flowers. 

Who will be a violet? — 

Little Alice, take thy station; 

Lo ! thine eyes are dewy yet 

With some thought's creation. 

Dainty words and bashful smiles 

Wreathe thy fresh lips ever newly; 

Conquering with thy timid wiles, 
Harsher souls unruly. 

Margaret, with pure cold eyes, 
Thou shalt be a scornful lily 

Bending in a proud surprise ; 
Smiling proud and chilly. 

Loose adown thy snowy veil, 

Till those eyes, like stars of even, 

Through the silver cloud burn pale, 
Lighting still the heaven. 

Now a rose ! Now a rose ! 

Look at Julia, richly blushing, 
Where the sun his kisses throws, 

Hair and forehead flushing. 

Floating o'er the crimson cheek, 
Mossy ringlets fall disparted ; 

Darling rose, so mild, so meek, 
True and fragrant-hearted. 

Where shall we a daisy see? — 

Yonder sits my romping Lizzie, 

With her hand upon her knee, 
In some mischief busy. 



54 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



She has morning's golden beam 

Prisoned in her flying tresses; 
And the evening's rosy gleam 

Still her cheek expresses. 

Now the dimpled arms aloft, 

Shouting to the birds above her; 
Chanting now in carols soft, 

Of the hearts that love her. 

Geraldine, with lips of flame, 

Thou shalt be a fuchsia, bending 
Graceful near the ivy frame ; 

Strength and frailness blending. 

Autumn dropped thee from his sheaves, 

Through his harvest lately roaming: 
Spring returns for what he leaves ; — 

Bow we to her coming. 

Eliza L. Sproat. 



ROSES. 



OH, the queen of all the roses it cannot be denied 
Is the heavy crimson rose of velvet leaf ; 
There is such a gracious loyalty about her vivid bloom, 
That among all charming kindred she is chief. 

Then the fainter-shaded roses, in their balmy damask pride, 

Group like satellites about one central star, — 
Royal princesses, of whom we can discover at a glance, 

What aristocrats the dainty creatures are. 

Then those tender, gauzy roses, clustered closely on their views, 

They are gentle maids of honor I am told ; 
But the pompous yellow roses, they are sneered at, it is said, 

For so showing off the color of their gold. 

And the roses that are powerless to boast of any tint, 

Unsullied as the snow itself in hue, 
These are pious nuns, I fancy, who perhaps may murmur prayers 

Very softly upon rosaries of dew. 

But the delicate pink roses that one meets in quiet lanes, 
Gleaming pale upon a back-ground of clear green, 

Why, these are only peasant girls who never go to court, 
But are royal little subjects to the queen. 

Edgar Fawcett. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



55 



FORWARD, MARCH! 

SPRING gives the order, " Forward, march ! 
Tis borne along the eager line; 
Breathes through the boughs of rustling larch, 
And murmurs in the pine. 

" March ! " At the sound, impatient, springs 
The mountain rill, with rippling glee, 
And rolling through the valley, brings 
Its tribute to the sea. 

" March ! " and upon each sunny hill 
Old winter's allies, ice and snow, 
Start at the music of the rill, 
And join its onward flow. 

" March ! " Down among the fibrous roots 
Of oaks we hear the summons ring ; 
The long chilled life-blood upward shoots 
To hail the coming spring. 

" March ! " and along each narrow neck, 
Across the plain, and up the steep, 
The spring-tide clears the winter's wreck 
With its resistless sweep. 

Advancing in unbroken lines, 

New allies rush to join its band, 

Till winter, in despair, resigns 
The scepter to its hands. 

On southern slopes, in quiet glades, 

And when the brooklets murmuring run; 

The grass unsheaths its tiny blades 
To temper in the sun. 

Flora unfolds her banner bright 

Above the field of flashing green, 

And crocus blooms, in lines of light, 
Throw back the sunlight's sheen. 

The birds in every budding tree 

Take up anew the old refrain ; 
The spring has come ; rejoice all ye 

Who breathe its air again ! 



56 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE OAK TREE. 

OING for the oak tree, the monarch of the wood ! 
O Sing for the oak tree, that groweth green and good ! 
That groweth broad and branching within the forest shade; 
That groweth now, and still shall grow when we are lowly laid ! 

The oak tree was an acorn once, and fell upon the earth ; 
And sun and shower nourished it, and gave the oak tree birth ; 
The little sprouting oak tree ! two leaves it had at first, 
Till sun and shower nourished it, then out the branches burst. 

The winds came and the rain fell ; the gusty tempest blew; 
All, all, were friends to the oak tree, and stronger yet it grew. 
The boy that saw the acorn fall, he feeble grew and gray ; 
But the oak was still a thriving tree, and strengthened every day. 



Four centuries grows the oak tree, nor does its verdure fail; 
Its heart is like the iron-wood, its bark like plaited mail. 
Now cut us down the oak tree, the monarch of the wood ; 
And of its timber stout and strong we'll build a vessel good. 

i 
The oak tree of the forest both east and west shall fly; 

And the blessings of a thousand lands upon our ship shall lie. 

She shall not be a man-of-war, nor a pirate shall she be; 

But a noble Christian merchant ship, to sail upon the sea. 

Mary Howitt. 



THE LIBERTY TREE. 

IN a chariot of light, from the regions of day, 
The Goddess of Liberty came; 
Ten thousand celestials directed her way, 

And hither conducted the dame. 
A fair budding branch from the gardens above, 

Where millions with millions agree; 
She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love, 
And the plant she named Liberty Tree. 

The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground, 

Like a native it flourished and bore ; 
The fame of its fruit drew the nations around, 

To seek out this peaceable shore ; 
Unmindful of names or distinctions they came, 

For freemen like brothers agree ; 

With one spirit endued, they our friendship pursued, 

And their temple was Liberty Tree. 

Thomas Paine, 1776. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 5 7 



MOTION SONG— DAISY FAIR. 

HAVE you heard the song of the daisy fair? 
Oh, the daisy fair, she has not a care ; 
A sweet little face has daisy fair, 

She's smiling all the day. 
Now see her buds peep, where the grasses wave, 
Where the grasses wave, the grasses wave, 
Now see her buds peep, where the grasses wave, 
This way above her head. 

Chorus. 

Oh, the heads of nodding clover, 
Oh, the boughs that sway above her, 
Oh, the butterflies dancing over, 
Love the daisy fair. 

Now her bright eyes open to the sun ; 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, what fun ! 
Now daisy's play time has begun ; 

Gay little daisy fair. 
Our daisy always moves with grace 
While she bends this way, this way, this way. 
She looks the bright sun in the face ; 

Brave little daisy fair. 

Chorus. 

At morn she turns her head this way, 
For she loves the sun, the sun, they say, 
And watches for its first bright ray ; 

Wise little daisy fair. 
At noon she smiles up at the sky, 
Tra la la la la la la la la, 
While the sun smiles back from his place so high; 

Happy daisy fair. 

Chorus. 

When the earth is dry beneath her feet, 
Lowty droops her head in the blinding heat. 
She clasps her fingers, hear how sweet 

Daisy breathes a prayer. 
Come, pretty white cloud, pray send the rain, 
Send rain, the rain, the rain, the rain, 
O pretty white cloud, I pray send rain 

That I may bloom again. 

Chorus. 



58 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Now the cooling drops come, sparkling down, 
Tra la la la la la la la la la, 
Now daisy has a bran new crown, 
Proud little daisy fair. 
At night when the dear sun goes to sleep, 
And all the dews around her weep, 
She turns this way, for one more peep. 
Good night, little daisy fair. 
Chorus. 
Gyjnnastics for the School Room. ANNIE CHASE. 



THE IVY GREEN. 



H, a dainty plant is the ivy green, 
That creepeth o'er ruins old ! 






1 . 

Of right choice food are his meals I ween, 

In his cell so lone and cold. 
The walls must be crumbled, the stones decayed, 

To pleasure his dainty whim ; 
And the mold'ring dust that years have made 
Is a merry meal for him. 

Creeping where no life is seen, 
A rare old plant is the ivy green. 

Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings, 

And a stanch old heart has he ! 
How closely he twineth, how tightly he clings, 

To his friend, the huge oak tree ! 
And slyly he traileth along the ground, 

And his leaves he gently waves, 
And he joyously twines and hugs around 

The rich mold of dead men's graves. 
Creeping where no life is seen, 
A rare old plant is the ivy green. 

Whole ages have fled, and their works decayed, 

And nations scattered been ; 
But the stout old ivy shall never fade 

From its hale and hearty green. 
The brave old plant in its lonely days 

Shall fatten upon the past; 
For the stateliest building man can raise 

Is the ivy's food at last. 

Creeping where no life is seen, 

A rare old plant is the ivy green. 

Charles Dickens. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



59 



THE AUTUMN LEAVES. 

First Child : 

I AM a leaf from the tall elm tree 
That stands high up on the hill «top there; 
Patiently my watch I keep 

O'er all the hillsides and valleys fair. 

Second Child: 

I came from the maple tree 

By the church with its huge iron bell. 
Many a time I've heard it say 

"A tale of hope and peace I'll tell." 

Third Child: 

1 am a leaf from the old oak tree 
Deep in the woods; I know 
AH the secrets of fairy land, 
And how the flowers grow. 

Fourth Child : 

And I am a leaf from the aspen, 

Do you know why I tremble so ? 
I heard a child tell a lie one day, 
'Tis an awful thing to know. 

Fifth Child ; 

Down where the dead lie sleeping, 

In a calm and quiet spot, 
I came from the willow, weeping, 
O'er the blue forget-me-not. 

Sixth Child : 

I grew on the big old apple tree, 

Where the blue birds and robins nest, 
The children love me, and the breeze — 
O, you can guess the rest. 

Seventh Child : 

And now we will make a wreath, 

Red and yellow and green ; 
When you see you will all agree 

'Tis the prettiest wreath that ever was seen. 

All join hands and sing: 

Away to the woods, away, 
Away to the woods, away, 



6o 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



All nature is smiling, 

Our young hearts beguiling, 

0, we will be happy to-day. 

Chorus. 

Away, away, away, away, 
Away to the woods, away; 
Away, away, away, away. 
Away to the woods, away. 



THE BROWN THRUSH. 

THERE'S a merry brown thrush sitting up in a tree ; 
He's singing to me ! he's singing to me ! 
And what does he say, little girl, little boy? 
'• Oh ! the world's running over with joy ! 
Hush ! look ! in my tree 
I'm as happy as happy can be." 

And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see, 
And five eggs hid by me in the big cherry tree ? 
Don't meddle, don't touch, little girl, little boy, 
Or the world will lose some of its joy ! 

Now I'm glad ! now I'm free ! 

And I always shall be, 

If you never bring sorrow to me." 

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, 
To you and to me — to you, and to me; 
And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy ; 
" Oh, the world's running over with joy ! 

But long it won't be — 

Don't you know ? don't you see ? 

Unless we're as good as can be." 



Lucy Larcom. 



I had a little yellow bird 

Upon a summer's day, 
He sat upon my finger 

And he never flew away. 
He fluttered and he fluttered 

And he fluttered all the day, 
But he never sang a song, 

And he never flew away. 

St. Nicholas, 1888. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



61 



SPRING. 

SPRING, with that nameless pathos in the air 
Which dwells with all things fair, — ■ 
Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain, 
Is with us once again. 

Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns 
Its fragrant lamps, and turns 
Into a royal court with green festoons 
The banks of dark lagoons. 

In the deep heart of every forest tree 
The blood is all aglee, 

And there's a look about the leafless bowers 
As if they dreamed of flowers. 

Yet still on every side we trace the hand 
Of winter in the land, 

Save where the maple reddens on the lawn, 
Flushed by the season's dawn. 

Or where, like those strange semblances we find 

That age to childhood bind, 

The elm puts on, as if in nature's scorn, 

The brown of autumn corn. 

As yet the turf is dark, although you know 
That, not a span below, 

A thousand germs are groping through the gloom, 
And soon will burst their tomb. # 

Already, here and there, on frailest stems 
Appear some azure gems, 
Small as might deck, upon a gala day, 
The forehead of a fay. 

In gardens you may note amid the dearth 
The crocus breaking earth ; 

And near the snowdrop's tender white and green, 
The violet in its screen. 

But many gleams and shadows needs must pass 
Along the budding grass, 

And weeks go by, before the enamored south 
Shall kiss the rose's mouth. 



62 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unborn 
In the sweet airs of morn ; 
One almost looks to see the very street 
Grow purple at his feet. 

At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by, 
And brings, you know not why, 
A feeling as when eager crowds await, 
Before a palace gate. 

Some wondrous pageant ; and you scarce would start, 

If from a beech's heart 

A blue-eyed dryad, stepping forth, should say, 

1 Behold me ! I am May ! " 

****** 

Henry Timrod. 



B 



BEAUTIFUL THINGS. 

EAUTIFUL ground on which we tread, 
Beautiful heavens above our head ; 






Beautifu 
Beautifu 

Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 

Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 

Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 

Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 

Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 
Beautifu 



flowers and beautiful trees, 
land and beautiful seas. 

sun that shines so bright, 
stars with glittering light; 
summer, beautiful spring, 
birds that merrily sing. 

lambs that frisk and play, 
night and beautiful day ; 
lily, beautiful rose, 
every flower that grows. 

drops of pearly dew, 
hills and vales to view ; 
herbs that scent the air, 
things grow everywhere. 

every thing around, 
grass to deck the ground, 
fields and woods so green, 
birds and blossoms seen. 

flower and beautiful leaf, 
world, though full of grief ; 
every tiny blade, 
all that God hath made. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



63 



THE USE OF FLOWERS. 

GOD might have bade the earth bring forth 
Enough for great and small, 
The oak tree and the cedar tree, 
Without a flower at all. 

He might have made enough, enough, 

For every want of ours ; 
For luxury, medicine and toil 

And yet have made no flowers. 

The ore within the mountain mine, 

Requireth none to grow, 
Nor doth it need the lotus flower 

To make the river flow. 

The clouds might give abundant rain, 

The nightly dews might fall, 
And the herb that keepeth life in man 

Might yet have drunk them all. 

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, 

All dyed with rainbow light; 
All fashioned with supremest grace, 

Upspringing day and night. 

Springing in valleys green and low, 

And on the mountains high, 
And in the silent wilderness, 

Where no man passes by ? 

Our outward life requires them not — 
Then wherefore had they birth ? 

To minister delight to man 
To beautify the earth. 

To comfort man — to whisper hope, 

Whene'er his faith is dim ; 
For who so careth for the flowers, 

Will much more care for him ! 



Mary Howitt. 



Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, 
Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, 
Dream and so dream all night without a stir. 

Keats — Hyperion. Bk. I, line 73. 



6 4 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



GREEN THINGS GROWING. 

concert recitation for a class of boys or girls, or both. 
All : 







H ! the green things growing ! the green things growing ! 



The fresh, sweet smell of the green things growing ! 
Frank : 

I would like to live, whether I laugh or grieve, 

To watch the happy life of the green things growing. 

All: 

Oh ! the fluttering and pattering of the green things growing ! 

Talking each to each when no man's knowing; 
Charles : 

In the wonderful white of the weird moonlight, 

Or the gray dreamy dawn when the cocks are crowing. 

Martha : 

I love, I love them so, the green things growing 
And I think that they love me without false showing ; 
For by many a tender touch they comfort me so much, 
With the mute, mute comfort of green things growing. 

Mabel : 

And in the full wealth of their blossoms' glowing. 

Ten for one I take they're on me bestowing. 
Emily : 

Ah ! I should like to see, if God's will it might be, 

Many, many a summer of my green things growing. 

Ada : 

But if I must be gathered for the angels' sowing — 
Sleep out of sight awhile — like the green things growing; 
Though earth to earth return, I think I shall not mourn, 
If I may change into green things growing. 

All: 

Oh ! the green things growing: the green things growing ! 

The fresh, sweet smell of the green things growing! 

1 would like to live, whether I laugh or grieve, 

To watch the happy life of the green things growing. 

Arranged by Principal Chas. H. Fuller, 

Cold Spring Harbor, N. Y. 






" There is a pleasure in the pathless woods." 

Byron's "Apostrophe to the Ocean." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 65 



THE STORY OF A LEAF. 

I AM only a leaf. My home is one of the great trees that grow near the 
school-house. All winter I was wrapped up in a tiny warm blanket, tucked 
in a little brown cradle, and rocked by the winds as they blew. Do you not 
believe it, little reader? What I say is true. 

Next fall just break off a branch of a tree, and see whether you cannot find q 
leaf-bud on it. It will look like a little brown knot. 

Break it open, and inside you will see some soft, white down; that is the 
blanket. The brown shell that you break is the cradle. 

Well, as I was telling you, I was rocked all winter in my cradle on the branch. 
When the warm days came, and the soft rains fell, then I grew very fast indeed. 
I soon pushed myself out of my cradle, dropped my blanket, and showed my 
pretty green dress to all who came by. 

Oh, how glad every one was to see me ! And here I am, so happy with my 
little brothers and sisters about me ! Every morning the birds come and sing 
to us ; the great sun shines upon us, and the winds fan us. 

We dance with the winds, we smile back at the bright sun, and make a 
pleasant shade for the dear birds. Every day, happy, laughing school children 
pass under our tree. 

We are always glad to see you, boys and girls — glad to see" your bright eyes, 
and hear you say, " How beautiful the leaves are ! " 

Rebecca D. Rickoff. 



IN A FOREST. 



STRANGER ! whose steps have reached this solitude, 
Know that this lonely spot was dear to one 
Devoted with no unrequited zeal 
To nature. Here, delighted, he has heard 
The rustling of these woods, that now perchance 
Melodious to the gale of summer move ; 
And underneath their shade on yon smooth rock, 
With gray and yellow lichens overgrown, 
Often reclined, watching the silent flow 
Of this perspicuous rivulet, that steals 
Along its verdant course, — till all around 
Had filled his senses with tranquillity, 
And ever soothed in spirit he returned 
A happier, better man. Stranger ! perchance, 
Therefore, the stream more lovely to thine eye 
Will glide along, and to the summer gale 
The woods wave more melodious. Cleanse thou, then, 
The weeds and mosses from this lettered stone. 

Robert Southey, 1798. 



66 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. 

POOR little daffy-down-dilly ! 
She slept with her head on a rose, 
When a sly moth-miller kissed her, 
And left some dust on her nose. 

Poor little daffy-down-dilly ! 

She woke when the clock struck ten, 
And hurried away to the fairy queen's ball, 

Down in the shadowy gien. 

Poor little daffy-down-dilly ! 

Right dainty was she, and fair, 
In her bodice of yellow satin, 

And petticoat green and rare. 

But to look in her dew-drop mirror, 
She quite forgot when she rose, 

And into the queen's high presence 
Tripped with a spot on her nose. 

Then the little knight who loved her — 
O, he wished that he were dead ; 

And the queen's maid began to titter, 
And tossed her saucy head. 

And up from her throne so stately, 
The wee queen rose in her power, 

Just waved her light wand o'er her, 
And she changed into a flower. 

Poor little daffy-down-dilly ! 

Now in silver spring time hours, 
She wakes in the sunny meadows, 

And lives with other flowers. 

Her beautiful yellow bodice, 

With green skirts wears she still ; 

And the children seek and love her, 
But thev call her daffodil. 






To him who in the love of nature holds 
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
A various language." 

Bryant's Thanatopsis. 






ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



67 



THE LITTLE BROWN SEED IN THE FURROW. 

A LITTLE brown seed in the furrow 
Lay still in its gloomy bed, 
While violets blue and lilies white 

Were whispering overhead. 
They whispered of glories strange and rare, 
Of glittering dew and floating air, 
Of beauty and rapture everywhere, 
And the seed heard all they said. 

Poor little brown seed in the furrow; 

So close to the lilies' feet, 
So far away from the great glad day, 

Where life seemed all complete ! 
In her heart she treasured every word, 
And she longed for the blessings of which she heard; 
For the light that shone and the air that stirred 

In that lanti so wondrous sweet. 

1 

The little brown seed in the furrow 

Was thrilled with a strange unrest; 
A warm, new life beat tremblingly 

In the tiny, heaving breast; 
With her two small hands clasped close in prayer, 
She lifted them up in the darkness there, 
Up, up, through the dark, toward sun and air, 

Her folded hands she pushed. 

O, little brown seed in the furrow, 

At last you have pierced the mold ; 
And quivering with a life intense, 

Your beautiful leaves unfold 
Like wings outspread for upward flight; 
And slowly, slowly, in dew and light 
A sweet bud opens — till, in God's sight, 

You wear a crown of gold. 



Ida W. Benham. 



Welcome, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets hail ! 
Ye lofty Pines ! ye venerable Oaks ! 
Ye Ashes wild ! resounding o'er the steep ! 
Delicious is your shelter to the soul. 

THOMSON, The Seasons. 



68 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



TREES. 

First Pupil: for a class exercise. 

FOREST trees have always "haunted me like a passion." Let us summon a 
few of them, prime favorites, and familiar to the American forest. 

Second Pupil : 

First the Aspen, what soft silver-gray tints on its leaves, how smooth its mot- 
tled bark, its whole shape how delicate and sensitive ! 

Third Pupil: 

Next the Elm, how noble the lift and droop of its branches; it has the shape 
of the Greek vase, such lavish foliage, running down the trunk to the very 
roots, as if a rich vine were wreathed around it ! 

Fourth Pupil: 

Then the Maple, what a splendid cupola of leaves it builds up into the sky, 
and in autumn, its crimson is so rich, one might term it the blush of the woods ! 

Fifth Pupil : 

And the Beech, how cheerful its snow-spotted trunk looks in the deep woods \ 
The pattering of the beechnut upon the dead leaves in the hazy days of our 
Indian summer, makes a music like the dripping of a fill, in the mournful 
forest. 

Sixth Pupil: 

The Birch is a great favorite of mine. How like a shaft of ivory it gleams in 
the daylight woods ! How the flame of moonlight kindles it into columned 
pearl ! 

Seventh Pupil : 

Now the Oak, what a tree it is. First a tiny needle rising grandly toward 
the sun, a wreath of green to endure for ages. The child gathers the violet at 
its foot; as a boy he pockets its acorns; as a man he looks at its heights tower- 
ing up and makes it the emblem of his ambition. 

Eighth Pupil: 

We now come to the Pine, of all, my greatest favorite. The oak maybe king 
of the lowlands, but the pine is king of the hills. There he lifts his haughty 
front like the warrior he is, and when he is roused to meet the onslaught of the 
storm, the battle-cry he sends down the wind is heard above all the voices of 
the greenwood. 

Ninth Pupil : 

We will merely touch, in passing, upon the Hemlock, with its masses of ever- 
green needles, and the Cedar with its misty blueberries; and the Sumac with its 
clusters of crimson, and the Witch-hazel, smiling at winter, with its curled, 
sharp cut flowers of golden velvet. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 6q 



Tenth Pupil: 

Did you ever, while wandering in the forest about the first of June, have your 
eyes dazzled at a distance with what you supposed to be a tree ladened with 
snow? It was the Dog-wood, glittering in its white blossoms. It brightens the 
last days of spring with its floral beauty. 

Eleventh Pupil : 

While admiring the dog-wood, an odor of exquisite sweetness may salute 
you; and, if at all conversant in tree knowledge, you will know it is the Bass- 
wood, clustered with yellow blossoms, golden bells pouring out such strong, 
delicious fragrance, you must all realize the idea of Shelley. 



All 



And the hyacinths, purple and white and blue, 
Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew, 
Of music so delicate, soft and intense, 
It was felt like an odor within the sense. 



LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

THE breaking waves dashed high 
On a stern and rock-bound coast, 
And the woods against a stormy sky 
Their giant branches tossed. 
***** 

Not as the conqueror comes, 

They, the true-hearted came, 
Not with the roll of stirring drums, 

And the trumpet that sings of fame, 

Not as the flying come, 

In silence and in fear ; 
They shook the depths of the desert's gloom 

With their hymns of lofty cheer. 

Amidst the storms they sang ; 

And the stars heard, and the sea ; 
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 

To the anthem of the free. 

The ocean eagle soared 

From his nest by the white wave's foam ; 
And the rocking pines of the forest roared ; 

This was their welcome home ! 



Mrs. Hemans. 



yc ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 






QUOTATIONS. 

for a class exercise. 
First Pupil: 

IF ever I see 
On bush or tree 
Young birds in their pretty nest, 
I must not in play 
Steal the birds away, 
To grieve their mother's breast. 

Second Pupil: 

Apples in the orchard, 
Mellowing one by one, 
Strawberries upturning 
Soft cheeks to the sun ; 
Roses faint with sweetness, 
Lilies fair of face, 
Drowsy scents and murmurs, 
Haunting every place ; 
Beams of golden sunshine, 
Moonlight bright as day, — 
Don't you think the summer's 
Pleasanter than May? 

Third Pupil : 

The ground was all covered with snow one day; 
And two little sisters were busy at play, 
When a snow bird was sitting close by on a tree, 
And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee. 






Fourth Pupil: 

Buttercups and daisies, 

Oh, the pretty flowers ! 
Coming, ere the spring time, 

To tell of sunny hours. 
While the trees are leafless, 

While the fields are bare, 
Buttercups and daisies 

Spring up everywhere. 

Fifth Pupil : 

How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
Flitting about in each leafy tree ! 
In the leafy tree so broad and tall, 
Like a green and beautiful palace hall. 






ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 7 1 

Sixth Pupil: 

A fair little girl sat under a tree, 

Sewing as long as her eyes could see ; 

Then smoothed her work, and folded it right, 

And said, " Dear work, good night, good night." 

Seventh Pupil : 

Kind hearts are the gardens, 

Kind thoughts are the roots, 
Kind words are the blossoms, 

Kind deeds are the fruits. 

Eighth Pupil: 

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, 
To you and to me, to you and to me ; 
And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy: 
" Oh, the world's running over with joy ! 
But long it won't be — 
Don't you know ? don't you see ? 
Unless we are as good as can be ! " 



THE BLUEBIRD'S SONG. 

I KNOW the song that the bluebird is singing, 
Out in the apple tree where he is swinging. 
Brave little fellow ! the skies may be dreary — 
Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery ! 

Hark ! how the music leaps out from his throat ! 
Hark ! was there ever so merry a note ? 
Listen awhile, and you'll hear what he's saying, 
Up in the apple tree swinging and swaying. 

Dear little blossoms down under the snow, 
You must be weary of winter I know; 
Hark while I sing you a message of cheer ! 
Summer is coming! and spring time is here ! " 

' Little white snowdrop ! I pray you arise ; 
Bright yellow crocus! come open your eyes; 
Sweet little violets, hid from the cold, 
Put on your mantles of purple and gold; 
Daffodils ! daffodils ! say do you hear? 
Summer is coming ! and spring time is here ! " 



7 2 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



"WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES." 

IN the spring when the green gits back in the trees, 
And the sun comes out and stays, 

And your boots pull on with a good tight squeeze, 
And you think of your barefoot days ; 

When you ort to work and you want to not, 
And you and yer wife agrees 

It's time to spade up the garden lot- 
When the green gits back on the trees — 
Well, work is the least of my idees 
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees. 



When the green gits back in the trees, and bees 
Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin, 

In that kind of a lazy "go-as-j'ou please " 
Old gait they hum roun' in ; 

When the ground's all bald where the hayrick stood, 
And the crick's riz, and the breeze 

Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, 

And the green gits back in the trees — 
I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these, 
The time when the green gits back in the trees. 



When the whole tail-feathers o' winter-time 

Is all pulled out and gone, 
And the sap it thaws and begins to climb, 

And the sweat it starts out on 
A feller's forrerd, a-gittin' down 

At the old spring on his knees — 
I kind o' like, jes' a-loaferin' roun' 

When the green gits back in the trees — 

Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I — durn — please — 

When the green, you know, gits back in the trees. 

James Whitcomb Riley, 






How dreary would the garden be, 

With all its flowery trees, 
Suppose there were no butterflies, 

And suppose there were no bees. 

Alice Carey 



ARBOR DAY MAX UAL. 



73 



THE TWIG THAT BECAME A TREE. 

THE tree of which I am about to tell you was once a little twig. There were 
many others like it, and the farmer came to look at them every day, to see 
if they were all doing well. 

By-and-by he began to take away the older and stronger twigs, and one day 
he dug up this little tree and carried it away to an open field. 

There its roots were again put into the soft warm ground, and it held its 
pretty head up as if looking into the blue sky. Just at sunset the farmer's wife 
came out to look at the new tree. 

"I wonder if I shall ever see apples growing on these twigs," she said. 

The little tree heard it, and said softly, "We shall see! Come gentle rain 
and warm sun, and let me be the first to give a fine red apple to the farmer's 
wife ! " 

And the rain and the sun did come, and the branches grew, and the roots 
dug deep into the soft ground, and at last, one bright spring da)' the farmer's 
wife cried, 

"Just see ! One of our little trees has some blossoms on it ! I believe that, 
small as it is, it will give me an apple this autumn." 

But the farmer laughed and said, "Oh, it is not old enough to bear apples 
yet." 

The little tree said nothing, but all to itself it thought, " The good woman 
shall have an apple this very year." 

And she did. When the cool days of autumn came, and the leaves began to 
fade and grow yellow, two red apples hung upon one of the branches of the 
tree. 



THE SPICE TREE. 

THE spice tree grows in the garden green, 
Beside it the fountain flows, 
And a fair bird sits the boughs between 
And sings his melodious woes. 

No greener garden e'er was known 

Within the bounds of an earthly King ; 
No brighter skies have ever shone 

Than those that illumine its constant spring. 

That coil bound stem has branches three 

On each a thousand blossoms grow, 
And, old as aught of time can be, 

The roots stand fast in the rocks below. 

John Sterling. 



74 ARBOR DA V. MANUAL. 



FALL FASHIONS. 

THE maple owned that she was tired of always wearing green, 
She knew that she had grown, of late, too shabby to be seen ! 
The oak and beech and chestnut then deplored their shabbiness, 
And all, except the hemlock sad, were wild to change their dress. 

' For fashion-plates we'll take the flowers," the rustling maple said. 

'And like the tulip I'll be clothed in splendid gold and red !" 

'The cheerful sunflower suits me best," the lightsome beech replied; 

1 The marigold my choice shall be," the chestnut spoke with pride. 
The sturdy old oak took time to think, "I hate such glaring hues; 
The gillyflower, so dark and rich, I for my model choose." 
So every tree in all the grove, except the hemlock sad, 
According to its wish ere long in brilliant dress was clad. 
And here they stand through all the soft and bright October days ; 
They wished to be like flowers — indeed they look like huge bouquets. 



COME TO THE FOREST. 

COME to the forest, the bright sun is shining, 
And nature is decked in her proudest array; 
The green leafy boughs with ivy entwining, 

Bend gracefully o'er the sweet flow'rs of May. 

Chorus. 

O come to the forest, all nature is gay ; 
Come away ! Come away ! Come away, away ! 
Come away! Come away! Come away ! Come away! 
Away, away, away, away. 
Away, away, away, away. 

Come to the forest, the gay birds are singing, 
As upward they soar to the beautiful sky; 

And through the fresh air bright insects are winging; 
Then come to the forest while summer is nigfh. 



GOD'S LOVE. 

THERE'S nobgpflower that decks the vale, 
There's not a tree that guards the mountain, 
There's not a shrub that scents the gale, 

There's not a wind that stirs the fountain, 
There's not a hue that paints the rose, 
There's not a leaf around us lying, 
But in its use or beauty shows 

God's love to us, and love undying. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



75 



TREE PLANTING. 

A BOY strolled through a dusty road, 
"What can I do? " said he, 
What little errand for the world ? " 
" I know — I'll plant a tree." 

The nursling was taken by mother earth, 

Who fed it with all things good : 
Sparkling water from mountain springs, 

And many a subtle food, 

Drawn from her own wide-reaching veins; 

From the treasuries of the sky, 
Far spread its branches in affluent grace; 

So the steady years went by. 

The boy who planted the little tree, 

By a kindly purpose led, 
One desolate, dreadful winter day 

In the brother-war fell dead. 

But the gentle thought at the great elm's root 
Burst forth with the spring's warm breath, 
And softly the fluttering foliage sang, 
"Love cannot suffer death." 

The elm's vast shadow far and cool 

Fell o'er the dusty way, 
Blessing the toilers at their rest, 

The children at their play. 

And panting horses felt the air 

Grow sudden full of balm ; 
Great oxen with their weary loads 

Caught there a sudden calm. 

So little acts of kindliness 

Spread every branch and root, 
And never guesses he who plants 

The wonders of the fruit. 

I often think if blessed eyes 

The old home scenes can see, 
That heaven's joy is heightened by 

The planting of the tree. 

M. F. Butts. 



7 6 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



PLANT WORSHIP. 

THE plant worship which holds so prominent a place in the history of the 
primitive races of mankind would appear to have sprung from a percep- 
tion of the beauty and utility of trees. Survivals of this still linger on in many 
parts of Europe. The peasants in Bohemia will sally forth into their gardens 
before sunrise on Good Friday, and falling upon their knees before a tree will 
exclaim : " I pray O green tree, that God may make thee good." At night time 
they will run to and fro about their gardens crying: " Bud, O trees, bud, or I 
will flog you." In our own country the Devonshire farmers and their men will 
to this day go out into their orchards after supper on the evening of Twelfth 
Day, carrying with them a large milk pail of cider, with roasted apples pressed 
into it. All present hold in their hands an earthenware cup filled with liquor, 
and taking up their stand beneath those apple trees which have borne the most 
fruit, address them in these words : 

" Health to thee, good apple tree, 
Well to bear pocket fulls, hat fulls, 
Peck fulls, bushel bag fulls ! " 

simultaneously dashing the contents of their cups over the trees. The observ- 
ance of this ceremony, which is locally known as "wassailing," is enjoined by 
Thomas Tusser in his work entitled " Five Hundred Points of Good Hus- 
bandry," wherein he bids the husbandman 

" Wassail the trees, that they may bear 
You many a plum and many a pear ; 
For more or less fruit they will bring, 
As you do them wassailing." 

In most countries certain plants are to be found associated with witches and 
their craft. Shakespeare causes one of his witches to discourse of root of 
"hemlock digg'd i' the dark;" likewise also of "slips of yew sliver'd in the 
moon's eclipse." Vervain was in olden times known as " the enchanter's plant ; " 
rue, again, was regarded as an antidote against their spells and machinations. 
Their partiality for certain trees is well known. According to Grimm, the 
trysting place of the Neapolitan witches was a walnut tree near Benevento. 
In walnut and elder trees they are also said to be in the habit of lurking at 
nightfall. Witches, too, had their favorite flowers. Among these the foxglove 
was known as the "witches' bells;" the harebell as the "witches' thimbles." 
Tradition asserted that on moonlight nights they might be seen flying through 
the air, mounted on the stems of the ragwort, reeds, or bulrushes. Throughout 
Germany it is believed that witches career through the midnight skies on hay. 
Many plants were pressed into the service of charms and spells for the detec- 
tion of witches and evil spirits when wandering about on their nefarious 
errands, particularly the St. John's wort, still largely worn by the German 
peasantry as a kind of amulet on St. John's eve. It was an old belief that all 
baptized persons whose eyes had been steeped in the green juice of the inner 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



77 



bark of the elder tree would be enabled to detect witches anywhere. The 
same property, according to German folk lore, is possessed by the wild radish, 
ivy and saxifrage on Walpurgis Night. Among other plants which have had 
the reputation of averting the crafts and subtleties of witchcraft, the juniper, 
holly, mistletoe, little pimpernel, herb paris, cyclamen, angelica, herb betony, 
rowan tree, bracken, and twigs of the ash may be mentioned. In the Rhine 
district the water lily is regarded as antagonistic to sorcery. Lavender is be- 
lieved in Tuscany to possess the power of averting the evil eye. Olive 
branches are said to keep the witches from the cottage doors in the rural dis- 
tricts of Italy, and the Russian peasantry will lay aspen upon the grave of a 
witch to prevent her spirit from walking abroad or exercising any evil influence 
over her neighbors. 

The Gentlemen's Magazine. 



THE BLUEBIRD. 

"TMS early spring; the distant hills 

1 Are flecked with drifts of dingy snow, 
And bird-notes from the lofty trees 

Come down in warblings soft and low. 

The bluebird seeks his home again, 

He sings sweet love songs to his mate ; 
They choose the dear old apple tree 

Whose branches shade our garden gate. 

One door, one window in their cot — 

All else is safe from wind and rain; 
The ruffled nest of former years 

Is soon made new and warm again. 

And now I watch with keen delight 

This shady home so near our door, 
Till busy parents come to bring 

Their dainties to the fledglings four. 

How sweet to climb the bended trunk, 

To gaze upon the tiny brood, 
And see four little gaping mouths 

Upraised imploringly for food. 

Dear warblers of my early years ! 

A child again, once more I wait, 
And watch you in the apple tree 

Whose branches shade our garden gate. 

C. F. Gerry. 



78 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



TO A PINE TREE. 

FAR up on Katahdin thou towerest. 
Purple-blue with the distance and vast; 
Like a cloud o'er the lowlands thou lowerest, 
That hangs poised on a lull in the blast, 
To its fall leaning awful. 

In the storm, like a prophet o'er maddened, 
Thou singest and tossest thy branches ; 

Thy heart with the terror is gladdened, 
Thou fore'bodest the dread avalanches, 

When whole mountains swoop valeward. 

In the calm thou o'er stretchest the valleys 
With thine arms, as if blessings imploring, 

Like an old King led forth from his palace, 
When his people to battle are pouring 
From the city beneath him. 



Spite of winter, thou keep'st thy green glory, 

Lustv father of Titans past number ! 
The snow-flakes alone make thee hoary, 

Nestling close to thy branches in slumber, 
And the mantling with silence. 

Thou alone know'st the splendor of winter, 

Mid thy snow-silvered, hushed precipices, 
Hearing crags of green ice groan and splinter, 

And then plunge down the muffled abysses 
In the quiet of midnight. 

Thou alone know'st the glory of summer, 

Gazing down on thy broad seas of forest, 
On thy subjects that send a proud murmur 
Up to thee, to their sachem, who towerest 
From thy bleak throne to heaven. 

James Russell Lowell. 



The violet in her greenwood bower, 

Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle, 

May boast itself the fairest flower 

In glen, or copse, or forest dingle. 

Sir Walter Scott. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



79 



THE BLUEBELL. 

THERE is a story I have heard — 
A poet learned it from a bird, 
And kept its music, every word — 

A story of a dim ravine, 

O'er which the towering tree tops lean, 

With one blue rift of sky between , 

And there, two thousand years ago, 
A little flower, as white as snow, 
Swayed in the silence to and fro. 

Day after day with longing eye 

The floweret watched the narrow sky 

And fleecy clouds that floated by. 

And through the darkness, night by night, 
One gleaming star would climb the height, 
And cheer the lonely floweret's sight. 

Thus, watching the blue heavens afar, 
And the rising of its favorite star, 
A slow change came, but not to mar ; 

For softly o'er its petals white 
There crept a blueness like the light 
Of skies upon a summer night ; 

And in its chalice, I am told, 
The bonny bell was found to hold 
A tiny star that gleamed like gold. 

And blue bells of the Scottish land 
Are loved on every foreign strand 
Where stirs a Scottish heart or hand. 

Now little people, sweet and true, 

I find a lesson here for you, 

Writ in the floweret's bell of blue : 

The patient child whose watchful eye 
Strives after all things pure and high 
Shall take their irn^ge by and by. 



8o 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual. 

ARBOR DAY POEM. 



LISTEN ! the grand old forests, 
Through which our fathers journeyed, 
Wherein their hearth-fires glimmered, 

Are crashing sadly down ; 
The echoes of their falling 
Are like the booming sea guns, 
That tell of sore disaster 

When tempests darkly frown. 

Those trees of God's own planting, 
Once standing with their branches 
Close-locked, like loving children, 

On many a mountain side ; 
Now, where the shade lay thickest, 
The sunshine darts and quivers, 
And turns to gold the wheat fields, 

Till all seems glorified. 



We mourn the vanished grandeur 
Of forests dark and stately, 
Yet we have not been idle, 

While ruthless axes swung ; 
A new, a glorious planting, 
Now gives a royal promise 
Of shade for generations 

Whose deeds are still unsung. 

We plant the pine and fir tree, 
And all that wear green branches, 
To give us hope of spring-time, 

Though snows are over all; 
The maple is for bird-songs, 
The elm for stately branches, 
Whose long, protecting shadows 

Through summer noontides fall. 



Listen ! a pleasant whisper 
Goes softly through the branches 
Of every lithe young sapling, 

By earnest workers set ; 
It says, " The time is coming 
When we shall be the forests, 
And give to all the nations, 

The shade they now regret." 



Sodus Centre, N. Y. 



Lillian E. Knapp. 



Written for the "Ardor Day Manual.' 

LITTLE ACORN. 

FOR RECITATION. 



u 



'M nothing but a little acorn, 
X Not much bigger than a bee; 
But mama Oak-tree tells me that 

I will grow as big as she, — 

" I can't see how — but she says someway 
I will pop out from my shell, 
A little sprout will greet the sunshine, 
Starting up, and down as well. 

" I'll keep growing, bigger, higher, 
Spreading out my branches wide; 
And will never stop to wonder 

Till I stand up by her side. 
Watertown, N. Y. 



Then I'll look down on my sisters, — 
For there were a lot you see, — 

Some who said they knew they couldn't 
Ever sprout and be a tree. 

So they never made an effort, — 
Did not ' try and try again ' ; 

There was nothing that could make them, 
Though nature taught their duty plain. 

But I am happy as I can be — 

Keeping laws of God and man — 

Now, can't you learn a lesson from me 
Growing upward all you can? " 

Mrs. M. H. Huntington. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE WONDERFUL " ONE-HOSS SHAY." 

HAVE you heard of the wonderful one hoss shay, 
That was built in such a logical way — ? 
It ran a hundred years to a day. 



Now, in building of chaises, I tell you what, 
There is always, somewhere, a weakest spot — 
In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, 
In panel or cross-bar, or floor, or sill, 
In screw, bolt, thorough-brace — lurking still, 
Find it somewhere you must and will — 
Above or below, or within or without — 
And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, 
A chaise breaks down, but does'nt wear out. 

But the Deacon swore — (as Deacons do 
With an " I dew vum " or an " I tell yeou ") — 
He would build one shay to beat the taown 
'N' the keounty ' n' all the kentry raoun' ; 
It should be so built that it couldn't break daouwn : — 
"Fur," said the Deacon, " 'tis mighty plain, 
That the weakes' place must stan' the strain ; 
" N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, 
Is only jest 

' T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." 
So the Deacon inquired of the village folk 
Where he could find the strongest oak, 
That couldn't be split, nor bent, nor broke — 
That was for spokes, and floor, and sills , 
He sent for lancewood, to make the thills ; ' 
The cross-bars were ash, from the straighest trees ; 
The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, 
But lasts like iron for things like these ; 
The hubs from logs from the " setler's ellum— " 
Last of its timber — they couldn't sell 'em— 
Never an axe had seen their chips, 
And the wedges flew from between their lips, 
Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; 
Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, 
Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, 
Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; 
Thorough-brace bison-skin, thick and wide ; 
Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide, 
Found in the pit where the tanner died. 
That was the way he " put her through." 
''There ! " said the Deacon, " naow she'll dew ! " 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

G 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE VOICE OF SPRING. 

I COME, 1 come ! ye have called me long ; 
I come o'er the mountains, with light and song. 
Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth 
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, 
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, 
By the green leaves opening as I pass. 

I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut flowers 
By thousands have burst from the" forest bowers, 
And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes 
Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains ; 
But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom, 
To speak of the ruin or the tomb ! 

I have looked on the hills of the stormy North, 

And the larch has hung all his tassels forth ; 

The fisher is out on the. sunny sea, 

And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free, 

And the pine has a fringe of softer green, 

And the moss looks bright, where my foot hath been. 

I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, 
And called out each voice of the deep blue sky, 
From the night bird's lay through the starry time, 
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, 
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, 
When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks. 

From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain ; 
They are sweeping on to the silvery main, 
They are flashing down from the mountain brows, 
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs, 
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves, 
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves ! 



Awajr from the dwellings of care-worn men, 
The waters are sparkling in grove and glen ! 
Away from the chamber and sullen hearth, 
The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ! 
Their light stems thrill in the wildwood strains, 
And youth is abroad in my green domains. 



Mrs. Hemans. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 83 



THE HOLLY-TREE. 

READER ! hast thou ever stood to see 
The Holly-tree? 
The eye that contemplates it will perceive 

Its glossy leaves 
Ordered by an intelligence so wise 
As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. 

Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen, 

Wrinkled and keen ; 
No grazing cattle through their prickly round 

Can reach to wound ; 
But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, 
Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear. 

I love to view these things with curious eyes, 

And moralize ; 
And in this wisdom of the Holly-tree 

Can emblem see 
Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, 
One which may profit in after-time. 

Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear 

Harsh and austere 
To those who on my leisure would intrude 

Reserved and rude, 
Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, 
Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree 

And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, 

Some harshness show, 
All vain asperities I day by day 

Would wear away, 
Till the smooth temper of my age should be 
Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree. 

And as, when all the summer trees are seen 

So bright and green, 
The Holly-leaves a sober hue display 

Less bright than they, 
But when the bare and wintry woods we see, 
What then so cheerful as the Holly-tree ?- 

So serious should my youth appear among 

The thoughtless throng; 
So would I seem, amid the young and gay, 

More grave than they, 

That in my age as cheerful I might be 

As the green winter of the Holly-tree. 

s Robert Southey, i79 8 - 



84 arbor da y manual. 



THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. 

DARLINGS of the forest ! 
Blossoming alone, 
When earth's grief is sorest 
For her jewels gone, 
Ere the last snow drift melts, your tender buds are blown. 

Fringed with color faintly, 
Like the morning sky, 
Or, more pale and saintly, 
Wrapped in leaves ye lie, 
Even as children sleep in faith's simplicity. 

There the wild-wood robin 

Hymns your solitude ; 
And the rain comes sobbing 

Through the budding wood, 
While the low south wind sighs, but dare not be more rude. 

Were your pure lips fashioned 

Out of air and dew, 
Starlight unimpassioned 

Dawn's most tender hue, 
And scented by the woods that gathered sweets for you ? 

Fairest and most lonely, 

From the world apart ; 
Made for beauty onty, 

Veiled from Nature's heart 
With such unconscious grace as wakes the dream of Art. 

Were not mortal sorrow 
An immortal shade, 
Then would I to-morrow 
Such a flower be made, 
And live in the dear woods, where my lost childhood played. 

Rose Terry Cooke. 



" I am Storm — the King ! 
My troops are the wind, and the hail, and the rain ; , 

My foes are the woods and the feathery grain. 

The mail-clad oak 
He gnarls his front to my charge and stroke." 

Francis M. Finch, The Storm King. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 85 



LIFE'S FOREST TREES. 

THE day grows brief; the afternoon is slanting 
Down to the west ; there is no time to waste. 
If you have any seed of good for planting, 
You must, you must make haste. 

Not as of old do you enjoy earth's pleasures 

(The only joys that last are those we give). 
Across the grave you cannot take gains, treasures ; 

But good and kind deeds live. 

1 would not wait for any great achievement; 

You may not live to reach that far off goal. 
Speak soothing words to some heart in bereavement — 

Aid some up-struggling soul. 

Teach some weak life to strive for independence ; 

Reach out a hand to some one in sore need. 
Though it seem idle, yet in their descendants 

May blossom this chance seed. 

On each life path, like costly flowers faded 

And cast away, are pleasures that are dead ; 
Good deeds, like trees, whereunder, fed and shaded, 

Souls yet unborn may tread. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



HOW TO MAKE A WHISTLE. 

FIRST take a willow bough, Slip the bark off carefully, 
Smooth, and round, and dark, So that it will not break, 

And cut a little ring And cut away the inside part, 

Just through the outside bark And then a mouth-piece make. 

Then tap and rap it gently Now put the bark all nicely back 
With many a pat and pound And in a single minute, 

To loosen up the bark, Just put it to your lips 

So it may turn around. And blow the whistle in it. 



"Nature's sepulchre is breaking, 
And the earth, her gloom forsaking, 
Into life and light is waking." 

Phcebe Cary in " Resurgam." 



g5 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE STORY OF THE MORNING-GLORY SEED. 

A LITTLE girl one day in the month of May dropped a morning-glory seed 
into a small hole in the ground and said : " Now, morning-glory seed, 
hurry and grow, grow, grow until you are a tall vine covered with pretty green 
leaves and lovely trumpet flowers." But the earth was very dry, for there had 
been no rain for a long time, and the poor wee seed could not grow at all. So, 
after lying patiently in the small hole for nine long days and nine long nights, 
it said to the ground around it : "O ground, please give me a few drops of 
water to soften my hard brown coat, so that it may burst open and set free my 
two green seed-leaves, and then I can begin to be a vine!" But the ground 
said : " That you must ask of the rain." 

So the seed called to the rain : " O rain, please come down and wet the 
ground around me so that it may give me a few drops of water. Then will my 
hard brown coat grow softer and softer until at last it can burst open and set 
free my two green seed-leaves and I can begin to be a vine!" But the rain 
said : " I cannot unless the clouds hang lower." 

So the seed said to the clouds : "O clouds, please hang lower and let the 
rain come down and wet the ground around me, so that it may give me a few 
drops of water. Then will my hard brown coat grow softer and softer until at 
last it can burst open and set free my two green seed-leaves and I can begin to 
be a vine!" But the clouds said : "The sun must hide, first." 

So the seed called to the sun : " O sun, please hide for a little while so that 
the clouds may hang lower, and the rain come down and wet the ground 
around me. Then will the ground give me a few drops of water and my hard 
brown coat grow softer and softer until at last it can burst open and set free 
my two green seed-leaves and I can begin to be a vine ! " "I will," said the 
sun, and he was gone in a flash. 

Then the clouds began to hang lower and lower, and the rain began to fall 
faster and faster, and the ground began to get wetter and wetter, and the seed- 
coat began to grow softer and softer until at last open it burst ! — and out came 
two bright green seed-leaves and the Morning-glory Seed began to be a Vine ! 

St. Nicholas, 1SS8. Margaret Eytinge. 



FOOLISH LITTLE ROBIN. 

ONCE there was a robin lived outside the door, 
Who wanted to go inside, and hop upon the floor. 
" Oh, no ! " said the mother, "you must stay with me ; 
Little birds are safest sitting in a tree." 

"I don't care," said robin, and gave his tail a fling; 
"I don't think the old folks know quite everything." 

Down he flew,— and kitty seized him, before he'd time to blink 
"Oh," he cried, "I'm sorry! but I didn't think." 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 87 



THE PRETTY ROSE-TREE. 

BEING weary of love, I flew to the grove, 
And chose me a tree of the fairest ; 
Saying, " Pretty rose-tree, thou my mistress shalt be, 
I'll worship each bud that thou bearest, 

For the hearts of this world are hollow, 
And fickle the smiles we follow; 
And 'tis sweet, when all their witcheries pall, 

To have a pure love to fly to ; 
So, my pretty rose-tree, thou my mistress shalt be, 
And the only one now I shall sigh to." 

When the beautiful hue of thy cheek through the dew 
Of morning is bashfully peeping, 
" Sweet tears," I shall say (as I brush them away), 
" At least there's no art in this weeping. 

Although thou shouldest die to-morrow, 
'Twill not be from pain or sorrow, 
And the thorns of thy stem are not like them 

With which hearts wound each other: 
So, my pretty rose-tree, thou my mistress shalt be, 
And I'll ne'er again sigh to another." 

Thomas Moore. 



ECHO. 

I love the proud grandeur of the old forest trees, 

With their leaves whispering softly their thoughts to the breeze ; 

And I love the bright streamlet that flows at their feet, 

Whose low distant murmurs faint echoes repeat, 

They say that an echo dwells here in the dell, 

Who every fond wish of the young heart can tell. 

Hark, the echo ! hark, the echo ! 
Who every fond wish of the young heart can tell. 

1 love the bright woodland, where the echoes are found, 
Where the rocks and the hills with sweet music resound, 
As the echoes awake to the shepherd's shrill horn, 
And the notes of the thrush on the breezes are borne. 
1 love the green fields, and the fragrant wild flowers, 
That drink with the dew generous light from above. 

Here's an echo, here's an echo, 
Here's an echo that wakes to the voice of my love. 

L. V. Hall. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE OLIVE TREES OF PALESTINE. 



I am like a green olive tree in the house of God.— Psalm 52 : 8. 



AMONG the gray old rounded hills, 
• O'er regions broad of Holy Land, 
A grateful scene the vision fills, 

Where clustering groves of olive stand. 

Rich in the vales, the slopes they trace, 
And oft the rocky summits crown; 

The thrifty saplings grow apace 

Beside the trees of gnarled renown. 

Slowly the grafted stems mature — 
From olives wild no fruit appears — 

But long the sturdy plants endure, 
And measure oft a thousand years. 

They love the hard and flinty soil, 

Drive down their roots amid the rocks, 

Draw out from thence their choicest oil, 
And stand secure from stormy shocks. 

Symmetric beauty, humble, calm, 
Their pleasant features clearly mark, 

Not like the tall and tufted palm, 
Nor tapering cypress, slender, dark. 

When vernal airs and skies appear, 
Star-blooms of purest white are seen, 

'Mid narrow leaves that all the year 
Keep an unchanging evergreen. 



As autumn days their exit make, 
Ring all the groves in merry gale, 

While stalwart hands the branches shake, 
And purple fruit descends like hail. 

Their sacks the gleeful maidens fill, 
And bear them on their heads away; 

On topmost boughs are berries still, 
To cheer the poor who hither stray. 

When sacred hills in mantling snow 
Feel winter storms along them sweep, 

And torrents cold through valleys flow, 
Unwithered leaves the olives keep. 

The richest wealth the people know, 
The largest comforts that they see, 

Each daily meal, the lamp's bright glow, 
Attest the value of the tree. 

Down to their life's remotest stage, 
Though trunk decays and boughs are grim, 

The reverend forms are green in age, 
And berries hang from every limb. 

Such are the grand old sacred trees 

I saw in sweet Gethsemane, 
And thought of Him whose holy knees 

Bowed under burdens there for me. 



While blossoms fade, or falling oft Along the slope of that dear hill, 
From arching boughs they lately decked, To where He vanished in the sky, 

That dusky hue of foliage soft Infrequent stands the olive still, 
With deeper emerald gems is flecked. To bring the days of Jesus nigh. 

Through arid heats of summer time, And o'er the ridge they cluster sweet, 

When fountains fail and leaves are brown, Where Bethany, beloved for Him, 

That fadeless verdure holds its prime, So oft received His weary feet, 

And rounding berries fill its crown. When day declined to twilight dim. 

Emblem of peace! I would like thee 

In living faithfulness abound; 
Oh! let me, like the olive tree, 
Within the house of God be found. 
Hours at Home, 1 866. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



89 



MAY. 



CAN it be that it is snowing, 
On this clear and sunny day? 
Are the snow-flakes thickly falling 
In the pleasant month of May? 



May, the month of song and story, 
Singing birds and fairest flowers; 

May, the month of nature's glory, 

Sunshine bright and gentle showers. 



No, it is the apple blossoms 

Falling, falling from the trees, 

Dancing in a whirl of rapture 
To the music of the breeze. 



Listen to the robins singing 

'Mid the branches of the trees 

Listen to the blue-birds' carol 
And the drowsy hum of bees. 



Till the orchard grass is covered 
With a carpet pure and white ; 

Like the crystal snow of winter 
Dipped in rosy sunset light. 



All the land is filled with sunshine, 
Every heart is light and gay, 

Nature smiles upon her children 
For it is the month of May. 



May, the month of song and story, 
Singing birds and fairest flowers; 

May, the month of nature's glory, 

Sunshine bright and gentle showers. 



Wm. G. Park. 



A BUTTERCUP. 



A LITTLE yellow buttercup 
Stood laughing in the sun; 
The grass all green around it, 
The summer just begun! 
Its saucy little head abrim 
With happiness and fun. 



" Don't think because you're yellow now, 
That golden days will last; 

I was as gay as you are, once; 
But now my youth is past. 

This da} r will be my last to bloom; 
The hours are going fast. 



Near by — grown old and gone to seed, 

A dandelion grew, 
To right and left with every breeze 

His snowy tissues flew. 
He shook his saucy head and said: 
" I've some advice for you. 



" Perhaps your fun may last a week, 
But then you'll have to die." 
The dandelion ceased to speak, — 

A breeze that capered by 
Snatched all the white hairs from his head; 
And wafted them on high. 



His yellow neighbor first looked sad, 

Then, cheering up, he said: 
' If one's to live in fear of death, 
One might as well be dead." 

The little buttercup laughed on, 
And waved his golden head. 



K. C. 



9° 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 

RESURGAM. 

HEN the Great Architect conceived the plan 
To build a habitation fit for man, 
Earth was not counted perfect from His hand, 
Till streams and forests gladdened all the land. 



W 1 



Great forests, like huge temples builded high, 
With frondent columns reaching toward the sky, 
Firm founded in the rich and nurturing ground, 
Their roofs with nature's glorious verdure crowned. 

Almighty Builder ! with what wise design 
Didst rear the mighty oak, the giant pine ! 
How did Thy grand beneficence unfold 
In beech and maple with their wealth untold ! 

Rivers and forests with their scenery grand, 
Made glad the earth fresh from the Maker's hand ; 
The orb of day looked down on man's abode, 
And with the stars sang praise to nature's God. 

So time passed on, till earth was peopled o'er; 
Human abodes were built on every shore; 
While in the forests depths, in the soft shade, 
Four-footed beauties with their offspring played. 

High in their branches feathered warblers sang, 
Till the dark woods with glad hosannas rang; 
And all was life and beauty. But God's plan 
Too soon was marred by greedy, wanton man. 

Stroke upon stroke the cruel axeman plied, 
Nor rested he till nature's choicest pride, 
"The grand old woods," were ruthlessly laid low, 
Entailing dark disaster and dire woe ! 

But now, thank God ! a noble band of men 
Come to the front. The woods shall rise again ! 
An army of tree planters, bearing trees, 
Fling out their glorious banner to the breeze ! 

Come, old and young and join the noble throng 
Who celebrate this day with speech and song ; 
And millions yet unborn shall own your sway, 
And rise to bless our glorious Arbor Day ! 
Alton, N. Y. Seymour S. Short. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 91 



SUNSET. 

THE evening shadows lengthen on the lawn: 
Westward, our immemorial chestnuts stand, 
A mount of shade; but o'er the cedars drawn, 

Between the hedge-row trees, in many a band 
Of brightening gold, the sunshine lingers on, 

And soon will touch our oaks with parting hand : 
And down the distant valley all is still, 
And flushed with purple smiles the beckoning hill. 

Come, leave the flowery terrace, leave the beds 

Where Southern children wake to Northern air; 

Let yon mimosas droop their tufted heads, 

These myrtle-trees their nuptial beauty wear, 

And while the dying day reluctant treads 

From tree-top unto tree-top, with me share 

The scene's idyllic peace, the evening's close, 

The balm of twilight, and the land's repose. 
* * % * *■ * * 

Bayard Taylor. 



UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. 

UNDER the greenwood tree, Who doth ambition shun, 

Who loves to lie with me, And loves to live in the sun, 

And tune his merry note Seeking the*food he eats, 

Unto the sweet bird's throat ? And pleased with what he gets ? 

Come hither, come hither, come hither ; Come hither, come hither, come hither 
Here shall we see Here shall we see 

No enemy No enemy 

But winter and rough weather. But winter and rough weather. 

Shakspeare. 



TREES OF CORN. 

THE child looked out upon the field The mother from the window looked 

And said with a little cry: Out in the rosy morn, 

" Mamma, what is it makes the grass " What makes the grass grow up so high ? 

Grow up so big and high?" Why, those are trees of corn." 

" What, trees of corn ? " said the happy child, 

Within the nursery walls, 
" Are those the kind of trees that bear 
The great big pop-corn balls?" 
Gocd Cheer. 



9 2 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE SPIRIT OF THE PINE. 



ALL outward wisdom yields to that within, 
Whereof nor creed nor canon holds the key 
We only feel that we have ever been, 
And evermore shall be. 

And thus I know, by memories unfurled 

In rarer moods, and many a nameless sign, 

That once in Time, and somewhere in the world, 
I was a towering Pine, 

Rooted upon a cape that overhung 

The entrance to a mountain gorge ; whereon 
The wintry shade of a peak was flung, 

Long after rise of sun. 



There did I clutch the granite with firm feet, 

There shake my boughs above the roaring gulf, 

When mountain whirlwinds through the passes beat, 
And howled the mountain wolf. 

There did I louder sing than all the floods 

Whirled in white foam adown the precipice, 

And the sharp sleet that stung the naked woods 
Answer with sullen hiss : 

But when the peaceful clouds rose white and high 
On blandest airs that April skies could bring, 

Through all my fibres thrilled the tender sigh, 
The sweet unrest of spring. 

She with warm fingers laced in mine, did melt 

In fragrant balsam my reluctant blood ; 
And with a smart of keen delight I felt 

The sap in every bud, 

And tingled through my rough old bark, and fast 

Pushed out the younger green, that smoothed my tones, 

When last year's needles to the wind I cast, 
And shed my scaly cones. 

I held the eagle till the mountain mist 

Rolled from the azure paths he came to soar, 

And like a hunter, on my gnarled wrist 
The dappled falcon bore. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 93 



Poised o'er the blue abyss, the morning lark 
Sang, wheeling near in rapturous carouse; 

And hart and hind, soft pacing through the dark, 
Slept underneath my boughs. 



I felt the mountain walls below me shake, 

Vibrant with sound, and through my branches poured 
The glorious gust : my song thereto did make 

Magnificent accord. 

Some blind harmonic instinct pierced the rind 

Of that slow life which made me straight and high ; 

And I became a harp for every wind, 
A voice for every sky ; 

When fierce autumnal gales began to blow, 

Roaring all day in concert, hoarse and deep ; 

And then made silent with my weight of snow — 
A spectre on the steep; 



And thus for centuries my rhythmic chant 

Rolled down the gorge, or surged about the hill : 

Gentle, or stern, or sad, or jubilant, 
At every season's will. 

No longer memory whispers whence arose 

The doom that tore me from my place of pride : 

Whether the storms that load the peak with snows 
And start the mountain slide, 

Let fall a fiery bolt to smite my top, 

Upwrenched my roots, and o'er the precipice 

Hurled me, a dangling wreck, erelong to drop 
Into the wild abyss; 

Or whether hands of men. with scornful strength 
And force from Nature's rugged armory lent, 

Sawed through my heart and rolled my tumbling length, 
Sheer down the deep descent. 

All sense departed with the boughs I wore; 

And though I moved with mighty gales at strife, 
A mast upon the seas, I sang no more, 

And music was my life. 



94 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Yet still that life awakens, brings again 

Its airy anthems, resonant and long, 
Till Earth and Sky, transfigured, fill my brain 

With rhythmic sweeps of song. 

Thence am I made a poet: thence are sprung 

Those motions of the soul, that sometimes reach 

Beyond the grasp of Art,— for which the tongue 
Is ignorant of speech. 

And if some wild, full-gathered harmony 

Roll its unbroken music through my line, 
There lives and murmurs, faintly though it be, 

The Spirit of the Pine. 

Bayard Taylor. 



MONTH OF MAY. 



HERE I am, and how do you do? I've a store of treasures rare 

I've come afar to visit you. Laid away with greatest care — 

Little children, glad and free, Days of sunshine, song and flowers, 

Are you ready now for me ? — Earth made into fairy bowers ! 
I'm the month of May ! I'm the month of May ! 

In my loaded trunk I bring 
Bees to buzz and birds to sing: 
Flowers to fill the balmy air, 
Violets are hiding there ! — 
I'm the month of May ! 
Youth's Compci7iion. 



THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SQUIRREL. 

THE mountain and the squirrel And I think it no disgrace 

Had a little quarrel ; To occupy my place. 

And the former called the latter " Little You are not as small as I, 

Prig." And not half so spry. 

Bun replied : I'll not deny -VOvP/kt • 

" You are doubtless very big; You make a ve^ pretty squirrel 4*ap, 

But all sorts of things and weather Talents differ; all is well and wisely 
Must be taken in together, put ; 

To make up a year, If I cannot carry forests on my back, 

And a sphere. Neither can you crack a nut." 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 95 



THE OAK OF OUR FATHERS. 

ALAS for the Oak of our Fathers, that stood, 
In its beauty, the glory and pride of the wood ! 

It grew and it flourished for many an age, 

And many a tempest wreaked on it its rage; 

But, when its strong branches were bent with the blast, 

It struck its root deeper, and flourished more fast. 

Its head towered on high, and its branches spread round ; 
For its roots had struck deep, and its heart was sound; 
The bees o'er its honey-dewed foliage played, 
And the beasts of the forest fed under its shade. 

The Oak of our Fathers to Freedom was dear ; 
Its leaves were her crown, and its wood was her spear. 
Alas for the Oak of our Fathers, that stood, 
"In its beauty, the glory and pride of the wood ! 

There crept up an ivy, and ciung round the trunk ; 
It struck in its mouths, and its juices it drunk; 
The branches grew sickly, deprived of their food, 
And the Oak was no longer the pride of the wood. 

The foresters saw, and they gathered around; 
The roots still were fast, and the heart still was sound; 
They lopt off the boughs that so beautiful spread, 
But the ivy they spared on its vitals that fed. 

No longer the bees o'er its honey-dews played, 
Nor the beasts of the forest fed under its shade; 
Lopt and mangled, the trunk in its ruin is seen, 
A monument now what its beauty has been. 

The Oak has received its incurable wound ; 

They have loosened the roots, though the heart may be sound ; 

What the travelers at distance green-flourishing see, 

Are the leaves of the ivy that poisoned the tree. 

Alas for the Oak of our Fathers, that stood 
In its beauty, the glory and pride of the wood ! 

Robert Southey, 179S. 



" First, in green apparel dancing, 
The young spring smiled with angel grace." 

Thomas Campbell. 



96 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE BOBOLINK. 

ONCE, on a golden afternoon, 
With radiant faces and hearts in tune, 

Two fond lovers in dreaming mood, 

Threaded a rural solitude. 
Wholly happy, they only knew 
That the earth was bright and the sky was blue, 

That light and beauty and joy and song 

Charmed the way as they passed along ; 
The air was fragrant with woodland scents ; 
The squirrel frisked on the roadside fence ; 

And hovering near them, "chee, chee, chink? 

Queried the curious bobolink, 
Pausing and peering with sidelong head, 
As saucily questioning all they said ; 

While the ox-eye danced on its slender stem, 

And all glad nature rejoiced with them. 

Over the odorous fields were strewn 

Wilting winrows of grass new mown, 

And rosy billows of clover bloom 

Surged in the sunshine and breathed perfume. 

Swinging low on a slender limb, 

The sparrow warbled his wedding hymn, 

And balancing on a blackberry briar, 
The bobolink sang with his heart on fire :- 
"Chink ! If you wish to kiss her, do ! 

Do it ! do it ! You coward, you ! 

Kiss her ! kiss her ! Who will see ? 
Only we three ! we three ! we three ! " 

Tender garlands of drooping vines, 

Through dim vistas of sweet-breathed pines, 

Past wide meadow fields, lately mowed, 
Wandering the indolent country road, 

The lovers followed it, listening still, 

And loitering slowly, as lovers will, 

Entered a gray-roofed bridge that lay 
Dusk and cool in their pleasant way. 

Under its arch a smooth, brown stream, 

Silently glided with glint and gleam, 

Shaded by graceful elms, which spread 
Their verdurous canopy overhead, — 

The stream so narrow, the bough so wide, 

They met and mingled across the tide. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



97 



Alders loved it, and seemed to keep 
Patient watch as it lay asleep, 
Mirroring clearly the trees and sky, 
And the flitting form of the dragon fly, 

Save where the swift-winged swallow played 
In and out in the sun and shade, 
And darting and circling in merry chase, 
Dipped and dimpled its clear, dark face. 

Fluttering lightly from brink to brink, 

Followed the garrulous bobolink, 

Rallying loudly with mirthful din, 
The pair who lingered unseen within. 

And when from the friendly bridge at last 

Into the road beyond they passed, 

Again beside them the tempter went, 
Keeping the thread of his argument — 
"Kiss her! kiss her ! chink-a-chee-chee ! 

I'll not mention it ' Don't mind me! 
I'll be sentinel — I can see 
All around from this tall birch tree ! " 

But ah ! they noted — nor deemed it strange — 

In his rollicking chorus a trifling change : 

" Do it ! do it ! " — with might and main 

Warbled the tell-tale — " kiss her again! " 
The Aldine. 







TWO LITTLE ROSES. 

NE merry summer day They stole along my fence ; 

Two roses were at play; They clambered up my wall ; 



All at once they took a notion They climbed into my window 

They would like to run away ! To make a morning call ! 

Queer little roses ; Queer little roses ; 

Funny little roses, Funny little roses, 

To want to run away ! To make a morning call ! 
St. Nicholas, 1888. Julia P. Ballard. 



"Our ships were British oak, 
And hearts of oak our men." 

S. J. Arnold's Death of Nelson. 

7 



98 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 



w 



THE PALM AND THE PINE. 

HEN Peter led the first Crusade, The planning Reason's sober gaze, 

A Norseman wooed an Arab maid. And Fancy's meteoric blaze. 



He loved her lithe and palmy grace, 
And the dark beauty of her face. 

She loved his cheeks, so ruddy fair, 
His sunny eyes and yellow hair. 

He called; she left her father's tent ; 
She followed whereso'er he went. 

She left the palms of Palestine 
To sit beneath the Norland pine. 

She sang the musky Orient strains 
Where winter swept the snowy plains. 

Their natures met like Night and Morn 
What time the morning star is born. 



And stronger as he grew to man, 
The contradicting natures ran, — 

As mingled streams from Etna flow, 
One born of fire, and one of snow. 

And one impelled, and one withheld. 
And one obeyed, and one rebelled. 

One gave him force, the other fire; 
This self-control, and that desire. 

One filled his heart with fierce unrest: 
With peace serene the other blessed. 

He knew the depth and knew the height, 
The bounds of darkness and of light; 



The child that from their meeting grew 
Huns like a star between the two. 



And who these far extremes has seen 
Must needs know all that lies between. 



The glossy night his mother shed 
From her long hair was on his head: 

But in its shade they saw arise 
The morning of his father's eyes. 

Beneath the Orient's tawny stain 

Wandered the Norseman's crimson vein. The hardest lesson was his own. 



So, with untaught, instinctive art 
He read the myriad-natured heart. 

He met the men of many a land; 
They gave their souls into his hand; 

And none of them was long unknown; 



Beneath the Northern force was seen 
The Arab sense, alert and keen. 

His were the Viking's sinewy hands, 
The arching foot of Eastern lands. 

And in his soul conflicting strove 
Northern indifference, Southern love; 

The chastity of temperate blood, 
Impetuous passion's fiery flood; 

The settled faith that nothing shakes, 
The jealousy a breath awakes; 



But how he lived, and where, and when, 
It matters not to other men; 

For, as a fountain disappears, 
To gush again in later years, 

So hidden blood may find the day, 
When centuries have rolled awaj: 

And fresher lives betray at last 
The lineage of a far-off Past. 

That nature, mixed of sun and snow, 
Repeats its ancient ebb and flow: 



The children of the Palm and Pine 
Renew their blended lives — in mine. 



Bayard Taylor. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 99 



THE PATRIOT'S PASSWORD. 

****** 

In arms the Austrian phalanx stood, 

A living wall, a human wood ! — 

A wall, where ever)' conscious stone 

Seemed to its kindred thousands grown ; 

A rampart all assaults to bear, 

Till time to dust their frames should wear 

A wood, — like that enchanted grove 
In which with fiends Rinaldo strove, 
Where every silent tree possessed 
A spirit imprisoned in its breast, 
Which the first stroke of coming strife 
Might startle into hideous life : 

So still, so dense the Austrians stood, 
A living wall, a human wood ! 
Impregnable their front appears, 
All-horrent with projected spears, 
Whose polished points before them shine, 
From flank to flank, one brilliant line, 
Bright as the breakers' splendors run 
Along the billows to the sun. 

***** 

" Make wa)^ for liberty ! " he cried, 

Then ran with arms extended wide, 

As if his dearest friend to clasp ; 

Ten spears he swept within his grasp: 
" Make way for liberty ! " he cried, 

Their keen points crossed from side to side 

He bowed amidst them, like a tree, 

And thus made way for liberty. 

James Montgomery. 



YOUNG TIMOTHY AND THE FORGET-ME-NOTS. 

YOUNG Timothy crept to the old meadow bars, 
And between the brown rails peeping through, 
Saw, — what do 3'ou think, — on the opposite side ? 
Two eyes of the prettiest blue. 

Two eyes of the prettiest, bluest of blue, 

For-get-me-nots hid in the grass ; 
But he couldn't climb over, and couldn't crawl through, 
And he's peeping, still peeping, alas ! 
St. Nicholas, 1888. Estelle Thomson. 



IOO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



BIRDS IN SUMMER. 

HOW pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
Flitting about in each leafy tree, — 
In the leafy trees, so broad and tall, 
Like a green and beautiful palace hall, 
With its airy chambers, light and boon, 
That open to sun and stars and moon ! 
That open unto the bright blue sky, 
And the frolicsome winds as they wander by ! 

They have left their nests in the forest bough, 
Those homes of delight they need not now ; 
And the young and the old they wander out, 
And traverse their green world round about ; 
And hark ! at the top of this leafy hall, 
How one to the other they lovingly call : 
"Come up, come up!" they seem to say, 
"When the topmost twigs in the breezes sway." 

" Come up, come up ! for the world is fair 
When the merry leaves dance in the summer air. 
And the birds below give back the cry, 

"We come, we come to the branches high !" 
How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
Flitting about in a leafy tree ! 
And away through the air what joy to go, 
And to look on the bright green earth below ! 



What joy it must be, like a living breeze, 
To flutter about 'mid the flowering trees ; 
Lightly to soar, and to see beneath 
The wastes of the blossoming purple heath, 
And the yellow furze, like fields of gold 
That gladdened some fairy region old ! 
On the mountain tops, on the billowy sea, 
On the leafy stems of the forest tree, 
How pleasant the life of a bird must be ! 



Mrs. Hemans. 



" Give me again my hollow tree 
A crust of bread, and liberty !" 

Pope, Imitations of Horace. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. IOI 



IN THE SWING. 

HERE we go to the branches high ! 
Here we come to the branches low ! 
For the spiders and flowers and birds and I 
Love to swing when the breezes blow. 
Swing, little bird, on the topmost bough ; 
Swing, little spider, with rope so fine; 
Swing, little flower, for the wind blows now ; 

But none of you have such a swing as mine. 

Dear little bird, come sit on my toes ; 

I'm just as careful as I can be; 
And oh. I tell you, nobody knows 

What fun we'd have if you'd play with me ! 
Come and swing with me, birdie dear, 

Bright little flower, come swing in my hair; 
But you, little spider, creepy and queer, — 

You'd better stay and swing over there ! 

The sweet little bird, he sings and sings, 

But he doesn't even look in my face ; 
The bright little blossom swings and swings, 

But still it swings in the self-same place. 
Let them stay where they like it best ; 

Let them do what they'd rather do; 
My swing is nicer than all the rest, 

But may be it's rather small for two. 

Here we go to the branches high ! 

Here we come to the grasses low ! 
For the spiders and flowers and birds and I 

Love to swing when the breezes blow. 
Swing, little bird, on the topmost bough ; 

Swing, little spider, with rope so fine ; 
Swing, little flower, for the wind blows now ; 

But none of you have such a swing as mine. 
St. Nicholas, 1888. Eudora S. Bumstead. 



" Music hath charms to sooth a savage breast, 
To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." 

Congreve's The Mourning Bride. 



''The sweet Elcaya and that courteous tree 
Which bows to all who seek its canopy.'' 

Moore's Lalla Rookh. 



102 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SOMEBODY'S KNOCKING. 

THERE'S somebody knocking. Hark ! who can it be ? 
It's. not at the door ! no, it's in the elm tree. 
I hear it again ; it goes rat-a-tat-tat ! 
Now, what in the world is the meaning of that? 

I think I can tell you. Ah, yes ! it is he: 
It's young Master Woodpecker, gallant and free. 
He's dressed very handsomely {rat-a-tat-tat), 
Just like a young dandy, so comely and fat. 

He's making his visits this morning, you see : 

Some friends of his live in that elm tree ; 

And, as trees have no door-bells (rat-a-tat-tat), 

Of course he must knock : what is plainer than that ? 

Now old Madam Bug hears him rap at her door : 
Why doesn't she come ? Does she think him a bore ? 
She stays in her chamber, and keeps very still. 
I guess she's afraid that he's bringing a bill. 

"I've seen you before, my good master," says she: 
"Although I'm a bug, sir, you can't humbug me. 
Rap on, if you please ! at your rapping I laugh, 
I'm too old a bug to be caught with your chaff." 
The Nursery. 



MY TREE. 



WHICH is the best of all the trees ? 
Answer me, children all, if you please. 
Is it the oak, the king of the wood, 
That for a hundred years has stood ? 
The graceful elm, or the stately ash, 
Or the aspen, whose leaflets shimmer and flash? 

Is it the solemn and gloomy pine, 

With its million needles so sharp and fine? 

Ah, no ! The tree that I love best, 

It buds and blossoms not with the rest; 

No summer sun on its fruit has smiled, 

But the ice and snow are around it piled ; 

But still it will bloom and bear fruit for me, 

My winter bloomer ! my Christmas tree ! 



Youttis Companion. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. IO3 



PEACH BLOSSOMS. 

FOR RECITATION. 

COME here ! come here ! cousin Mary and see 
What fair, ripe peaches there are on the tree — 
On the very same bough that was given to me 

By father, one day last spring. 
When it looked so beautiful, all in the blow, 
And I wanted to pluck it, he told me, you know, 
I might, but that waiting a few months would show 
The fruit that patience might bring. 

And as I perceived by the sound of his voice, 
And the look of his eye, it was clearly his choice 
That it should not be touched, I have now to rejoice 

That I told him we'd let it remain ; 
For, had it been gathered when full in the flower, 
Its blossoms had withered, perhaps in an hour, 
And nothing on earth could have given the power 

That would make them flourish again. 

But now, of a fruit so delicious and sweet 

I've enough for myself and my playmates a treat , 

They tell me besides, that the kernels secrete 
What, if planted, will make other trees : 

For the shell will come open to let down the root ; 

A sprout will spring up, whence the branches will shoot; 

There'll be buds, leaves, and blossoms; and then comes the fruit- 
Such beautiful peaches as these ! 

And Nature, they say, like a mighty machine, 

Has a wheel in a wheel, which, if aught comes between, 

It ruins her work, as it might have been seen, 

Had it not given patience this trial. 
From this, I'll be careful to keep it in mind, 
When the blossoms I love, that there lingers behind 
A better reward, that the trusting shall find 

For a trifling self-denial. 

Hannah F. Gould. 



" Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, 
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze." 

Cowper. Tirocinuim, Line 43. 



The church was beautifully decorated with sweet spring flowers and the air 
was heavy with their fragrance. As the service was about to begin, small 
Kitty pulled her mother's sleeve : "Oh, mamma, don't it smell solemn ?" 



104 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE STORM IN THE FOREST. 

THE storm in the forest is rending and sweeping; 
While tree after tree bows its stately green head ; 
The flowerets beneath them are bending and weeping; 

And leaves, torn and trembling, all round them are spread. 

The bird that had roamed, till she thinks her benighted, 
Dismayed, hastens back to her home in the wood; 

And flags not a wing, till her bosom, affrighted, 

Has laid its warm down o'er her own little brood. 

And they, since that fond one so quickly has found them, 
To shelter their heads from the rain and the blast, 

Shall fearless repose, while the bolts burst around them; 
And lie calm and safe, till the darkness is past. 

Hast thou, too, not felt, when the tempest was drearest, 

And rending thy covert, or shaking thy rest, 
Thine own blessed angel that moment the nearest — 

Thy screen in his pinion — thy shield in his breast ? 

When clouds frowned the darkest, and perils beset thee, 
Till each prop of earth seemed to bend, or to break, 

Did e'er thy good angel turn off. and forget thee ? 
The mother her little ones, then, may forsake ! 

Ah, no ! thou shalt feel thy protector the surer — 
The sun, in returning, more cheering and warm; 

And all things around thee, seem fresher and purer, 

And touched with new glory, because of the storm ! 

Hannah F. Gould. 



GOD'S WISDOM AND POWER. 

THERE'S not a tint that paints the rose, There's not of grass a single blade 
Or decks the lily fair, Or tree of loveliest green, 

Or streaks the humblest flower that blows, Where Heavenly skill is not displayed, 
But God has placed it there. And Heavenly wisdom seen. 



There's not a place in earth's vast round 

"in ocean's deep or air, 
Where skill and wisdom are not found, 

For God is everywhere. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 105 



MAY DAY. 

OH, 'tis bland, and oh, 'tis blooming, for it's May; 
Could there be a more delightful season, pray ? 
How the sunbeams skip and scatter, 
And the sparrows chirp and chatter, 
And the sweetly scented breezes softly stray ! 
And we're gladsome, and we're gleeful, and we're gay, 
And we're highly happy-hearted, 
For we're blithely briskly started 
For a joyful, jocund, jolly holiday. 

And oh, 'tis glum and gloomy, though "tis May ! 
Could there be a more distracting season, say? 
We must hustle, we must hurry, 
In a flutter and a flurry, 
For the sky is direly dark and grimly gray, 
And we'll have to hasten home the shortest way ; 
And we scuttle and we scamper! 
What a doleful, dismal damper ! 
What a dreary, drizzly, dreadful holiday ! 
St. Nicholas, 18S8. EMMA A. Opper. 



M 



EVE'S LAMENTATION. 

UST I thus leave thee Paradise ! thus leave 
Thee, native soil ! these happy walks and shades, 
Fit haunt of Gods ! where I had hoped to spend, 
Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
That must be mortal to us both ! O flow'rs, 
That never will in other climate grow, 
My earl)'' visitation, and my last 
At e'en, which I bred up with tender hand 
From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, 
Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
Your tribes, and water from th' ambrosial fount? 
The lastly, nuptial bower ! by me adorn'd 
With what to sight or smell was sweet, from thee 
How shall I part, and whither wander down 
Into a lower world, to this obscure 
And wild ? How shall we breathe in other air, 
Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ? 

Milton's " Paradise Lost." 



I06 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Written for the Ardor Day Manual. 

LIFE IN ITS SPRING-TIME. 

FOR A BOY'S RECITATION. 

"TMS the time to be cheerful, when nature is gay, 
1 And others are bearing our burdens of care, 
The bright morning-glories of life's coming day, 
All vie with the beauties and blossoms of May, 
Tis life in its spring-time all beauty and fair. 

Tis the time to be thankful, with guardians blest, 

Whose loves are as deep as the depths of the sea, 

When earth is new-robing and clad in her best ; 

In the anthem's loud swell we will join with the rest 
With ever the chorus : — " the land of the free." 

'Tis the seed-time whose harvest the autumn shall bring, 
When treasures most precious we give to the soil, 

And trust to the nurture and vigor of spring 

While firm to the promise we joyfully cling,— 

That the sower shall reap the rich fruit of his toil. 

With nature's great soul 'tis the time to commune, 

From the harmony outward, our thoughts turn within, 

To know if the voices of each are in tune ; 

That the sweet buds of May bear the roses of June, 
And joy crown the harvest of sheaves gathered in. 

'Tis the spring-time of youth, with the birds and the bowers; 

The seeding and budding, the fruit we must reap. 
Not all of our life will be sunshine and flowers ; 
But through summer and autumn the best will be ours, 
If to nature we're true, and her harmony keep. 
Watertown, N. Y. E. A. Holbrook. 



CHERRY RIPE. 

(adapted.) 

MAY time ! May time ! " Cherry ripe ! cherry ripe ! " 

Hear the robins sing Happy children shout, 

All through the cherry boughs Under the sunny skies :— 

Flits the restless wing. What a jolly rout ! 

Bobolink ! come and drink Take your fill ; — pay no bill, 

Wine from goblets red, Cherries ripe are free ; — 

Such a chatter ; what's the matter Bob and robin have a party 

In the boughs o'erhead ? In the cherry tree. 

Kate L. Brown. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 107 



DEAR DANDELION. 

(ADAPTED.) 

WINTER is over ! summer is coming ! 
May time is with us, so balmy and sweet ! 
All creatures feel it, all things reveal it, 

Soft skies above us, green grass at our feet. 

Winter is ended, summer is coming ! 

May day and robin and crocus are here ! 
Green grows the clover ! still I roam over 

Garden and meadow for something more dear. 

Must I confess it? Surely you guess it, 

Dearest of flowers to the heart of a child ; 

If I confide it, do not deride it, 

Call it not weed, dear, because it is wild! 
****** 

Foliage ragged — ever invading 

Terrace and lawn in spite of yoxxx care; 
When you're least thinking, up they come winking, 

Laugh in your face with the jolliest air. 

Duly at sunset droop the soft fringes, 

Only some little green tassels remain ; 
But with the dawning, bright as the morning, 

Golden and saucy they bloom out again, 

****** 

Crocus, arbutus, violet, snow-drop, 

Others may praise them, and love them the best, 
Give me my olden favorite golden ! 

Dear Dandelion ! You're worth all the rest ! 
Wide Awake, August, 18S6. Laura D. Nichols. 



THE RETURN OF SPRING. 

* * * * * Is it a spike of azure flowers, 

A SPIRIT of beauty walks the hills, Deep in the meadows seen, 

A spirit of love the plain; Or is it the peacock's neck that towers 

The shadows are bright, and the sunshine fills Out of the spangled green ? 

The air with a diamond rain ! 

Is a white dove glancing across the blue, 

Before my vision the glories swim, Or an opal taking wing ? 

To the dance of a tune unheard: For my soul is dazzled through and through, 

Is an angel singing where woods are dim, With the splendor of the Spring. 

Or is it an amorous bird ? 

Bayard Taylor. 



Iq8 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



UNDER THE APPLE-TREE. 

IN a home-nest of peace and joy, 
Bright and pleasant as a home can be, 
Lives a merry and sweet-faced boy 

Under a broad old apple-tree. 
Searching wide, you will seldom meet 

Child so blithesome and fair as he, — 
How can he help being pretty and sweet, 
Dwelling under an apple-tree ? 

In the spring when the child goes out, 

Glad as a bird that winter 's past, 
Making his flower-beds all about, 

Liking best what he finished last; 
Then the tree from each blossomy limb 

Heaps its petals about its feet, 
And like a benison above him 

Scatters its fragrances, sweet to sweet. 

In the summer the dear old tree 

Spreads above him its cooling shade, 
Keeping the heat'from his cheek, while he, 

Playing at toil with rake and spade, 
Chasing the humming-bird's gleam and dart, 

Watching the honey-bees drink and doze, 
Gathers in body and soul and heart, 

Beauty and health like an opening rose. 

In the autumn, before the leaves 

Lose, their greenness, the apples fall, 
Roll on the roof, and bounce from the eaves, 

Pile on the porch, and rest on the wall ; 
Then he heaps on the grassy ground 

Rosy pyramids brave to see ; 
How can he help being ruddy and sound, 

Dwelling under an apple-tree? 

In the winter, when winds are wild, 

Then, still faithful, the sturdy tree 
Keeps its watch o'er the darling child, 

Telling him tales of the May to be ; 
Teaching him faith under stormy skies, 

Bidding him trust when he cannot see ; 
How can he help being happy and wise, 

Dwelling under an apple-tree ? 

Elizabeth Akers Allen. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



IO9 



MARY AND HER PET SQUIRREL. 

DO you think my pet squirrel will go quite away, 
If I let him be free just for one short day ? 
So bland is the sun, and so genial the air, 
It is cruel in me to imprison him there. 

' If I let him go once to the old chestnut-tree, 
Don't you think, by to-night, he'll come back to me ? " 
So said little Mary, as I chanced to go by, 
And the inquiry glanced from her lip and her eye. 

It did seem quite hard, such a beautiful day, 
To keep the pet squirrel in a cage-house to play ; 
So I told her the squirrel would come back again, 
When the shadows of evening fell over the glen ; 
He would tire of the oak and the murmuring rill, 
And think his snug prison-house pleasanter still. 

So she lifted the latch of the prison-house door, 
When a doubt flitted over her features once more. 
' I don't know," Mary said, " I feel half afraid, 
He remembers too keenly the forest-tree's shade ; 
On the gray mountain's brow, when the night-shadows fall, 
Perhaps he won't come at my evening call." 

'No matter, — I'll try, — and I hope he loves me 
Far more than the nuts on the old chestnut-tree." 
So she opened the door, and the squirrel popped out, 
And whisked his long tail as he capered about. 

He bobbed his pert head, and looked out of his eye 
With a mischievous wink, which said plainly, "Good-by; " 
And his swift, little feet, as they pattering ran, 
Sent back a defiance, " Now catch if you can ! " 

Now dear little Mary looked ruefully on, 
When she saw that the squirrel had really gone. 
Till her bright eye was weary with tracing his track, 
And she-said to herself, " I hope he'll come back." 

Well, she hoped, and she watched, and the evening came, 
And she listened to hear him respond to his name ; 
With her locks all flung back, and her animate eye 
Rambling o'er the brown hillocks, her squirrel to spy ; 
But he came not with night, and night came so fast, 
That her hope all forsaken, she resigned it, at last. 



t IO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

But whether in wild-wood, or shadowy glen, 

The squirrel had found him a shelter again ; 

Or whether, as some of our neighbors still say, 

He fell to the hunter's sure rifle a prey, 

Most certain it is that he never returned 

To the hand which caressed him, the home which he spurned 

And Mary, as she looks on his tenantless pen, 

Says, " I never will trust a tame squirrel again ! " 



THE SUNBEAM. 

THOU art no lingerer in monarch's hall : 
A joy thou art and a wealth to all ; 
A bearer of hope unto land and sea : 
Sunbeam, what gift hath the world like thee ? 

Thou art walking the billows, and ocean smiles ; 
Thou hast touched with glory his thousand isles ; 
Thou hast lit up the ships, and the feathery foam, 
And gladdened the sailor like words from home. 

To the solemn depths of the forest shades 
Thou art streaming on through their green arcades, 
And the quivering leaves that have caught thy glow, 
Like fireflies glance to the pool below. 

I looked on the mountains : a vapor lay 
Folding their heights in its dark array ; 
Thou breakest, and the mist became 
A crown and a mantle of living flame. 

I looked on the peasant's lowly cot : 
Something of sadness had wrapped the spot; 
But a gleam of thee on its casement fell, 
And it laughed into beauty at that bright spell. 

Sunbeam of summer, O, what is like thee, 

Hope of the wilderness, joy of the sea ? 

One thing is like thee, to mortals given — 

The faith touching all things with hues of heaven. 

Mrs. Hemans. 



" The trees were gazing up into the sky, 
Their bare arms stretched in prayer for the snows." 

Alex. Smith. — u A Life Drama." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 1 1 



A LITTLE PLANTER. 

DOWN by the wall where the lilacs grow, 
Digging away with the garden hoe, 
Toiling as busily as he can — 
Eager and earnest, dear little man ! 
Spoon and shingle are lying by. 
With a bit of evergreen, long since dry. 

"What are you doing, dear?" I ask. 

Ted for an instant stops his task, 

Glances up with a sunny smile 

Dimpling his rosy cheeks, the while : 
"Why, it is Arbor Day, you see, 

And I'm planting a next year's Christmas-tree. 

" For last year, auntie, Johnny Dunn 
Didn't have even the smallest one ; 
And I almost cried, he felt so bad, 
When I told 'bout the splendid one we had ; 
And 1 thought if I planted this one here, 
And watered it every day this year, 
It would grow real fast — I think it might ; 
(His blue eyes fill with an eager light), 
And I'm sure 'twill be, though very small, 
A great deal better than nothing at all." 

Then something suddenly comes between 
My eyes and the bit of withered green, 
As I kiss the face of our Teddy boy 
Bright and glowing with giving's joy. 
And Johnny Dunn, it is plain to see, 
Will have his next year's Christmas-tree. 
Youth's Companion. 



'Now Nature hangs her mantle green 
On every blooming tree." 

Burns, Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots. 



" Now the sun once more is glancing, 
And the oak trees roar with joy." 

Heine, Miscellaneous Poems, Germany, 1815. 



112 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE GARDEN ON THE SANDS. 



ONCE, on a time, some little hands 
Planted a garden on the sands; 
And with a wish to keep it dry, 
They raised a wall five inches high. 

Within the wall and round the walks, 
They made a fence of slender stalks ; 
And then they formed an arbor cool, 
And dug in front a tiny pool. 

Their beds were oval, round and square, 
Thrown up and trimmed with decent care: 
In these they planted laurel twigs, 
And prickly holly, little sprigs 
Of ash and poplar, and, for show, 
Bright daffodils and heart's ease low; 
With pink-edged daises by the score, 
And buttercups and many more. 

* 

One rose they found with great delight, 

And set it round with lilies bright; 
This finished, then they went away, 
Resolved to come another day. 

The sea, meanwhile, with solemn roar, 
Approached and washed the sandy shore; 
But, all this time, it did not touch 
The little spot they loved so much. 

The strangers that were passing b) r , 
The garden viewed with smiling eye; 



But no one ventured to disturb 
A single plant, or flower or herb. 

Still, when the children came again, 

They found their labor all in vain; 

The flowers were drooping side by side, 

The rose and lilies all had died. 

No one could make them grow or shoot, 

Because they had not any root; 

And then the soil, it was so bad, 

They must have withered if they had. 

Now, so it is that children fail, 
Just like the garden in this tale; 
They have good wishes, pleasant looks, 
Are busy with their work and books; 
Their conduct often gives delight, 
And one would fancy all was right; 
But, by and by, with sad surprise, 
We see how all this goodness dies; 
Instead of'being rich with fruit, 
They fade away for want of root. 

Oh ! pray that He who only can 
Renew the heart of fallen man, 
May plant you in His pleasant ground, 
Where trees of righteousness abound; 
So shall you be, in early youth, 
' Rooted and grounded in the truth." 



MR. SPRING'S CONCERT. 



A CONCERT once by Mr. Spring 
Was given in the wood ; ' 

He begged both old and young to come 

And all to sing who could. 
Miss Lark the music to begin, 
Her favorite ballad sang, 
A well-known air admired by all, 
So clear her sweet voice rang. 

And next a gentleman appeared, 

Come lately from abroad, 
His song was short but much admired, 

And so it was encored. 
He said that Cuckoo was his name, 

His style was quite his own; 
He sang most kindly while he stayed, 

But all too soon was gone. 



The Finches then were asked to sing,- 

Would they get up a glee 
With Mr. Linnet and his wife 

Who sing so prettily? 
And in the chorus many more 

No doubt would take a part; 
Young Blackcap has a splendid voice 

And sings with all his heart. 

Now came the much expected guest 

Young Lady Nightingale, 
So late that everybody feared 

She really meant to fail. 
At first she said she could not sing 

She was afraid to try; 
But then she sang, and all the air 

Was filled with melody. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



"3 



THE TREE THAT TRIED TO GROW. 

ONE time there was a seed that wished to be a tree. It was fifty years ago, 
and more than fifty — a hundred, perhaps. 

But first there was a great bare granite rock in the midst of the Wendell 
woods. Little by little, dust from a squirrel's paw, as he sat upon it eating a 
nut; fallen leaves, crumbling and rotting r - and perhaps the decayed shell of 
the nut, — made earth enough in the hollows of the rock for some mosses to 
grow ; and for the tough little saxifrage flowers, which seem to thrive on the 
poorest fare, and look all the healthier, like very poor children. 

Then, one by one, the mosses and blossoms withered, and turned to dust; 
until, after years, and years and years, there was earth enough to make a bed 
for a little feathery birch seed which came flying along one day. 

The sun shone softly through the forest trees ; the summer rain pattered 
through the leaves upon it; and the seed felt wide awake and full of life. So it 
sent a little, pale-green stem up into the air, and a little white root down into 
the shallow bed of earth. But you would have been surprised to see how much 
the root found to feed upon in only a handful of dirt. 

Yes, indeed ! And it sucked and sucked away with its little hungry mouths, 
till the pale-green stem became a small brown tree, and the roots grew tou°-h 
and hard. 

So, after a great many years, there stood a tall tree as big around as your body, 
growing right upon a large rock, with its big roots striking into the ground on 
all sides of the rock, like a queer sort of wooden cage. 

Now, I do not believe there was ever a boy in this world who tried as hard to 
grow into a wise, or a rich or a good man, as this birch seed did to grow into a 
tree, that did not become what he wished to be. And I don't think anybody 
who hears the story of the birch tree, growing in the woods of Wendell, need 
ever give up to any sort of difficulty in his way, and say, "I can't." Only try 
as hard as the tree did, and you can do every thing. 

Francis Lee. 



T 



ELM BLOSSOM. 

HE bloom of the elm is falling, On the sloping roof's brown thatching; 

Falling hour by hour, And on the springing grass; 

On the buds and the golden blossoms, On the dappled, meek-eyed cattle; 

That are badges of spring's sweet power; On lover and on lass. 
On the white throat little builder, 

That, as he buildeth sings; With the rain and with the snow-flakes 

On the chattering, glittering starling; The angel of the year 

And on the swallow's wings. Comes with his swift wings glancing, 

Bringing us hope or fear; 

The bloom of the elm is falling, Now dying leaves, now blossoms, 

Upon the passing bee; He scatters o'er the land: 

And on the rosy clusters In storms and in the sunshine, 

That stud the apple tree: I've seen his beckoning hand. 

8 Hoars at Home. 



I 14 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Written for the "Ardor Day Manual." 

NAMING THE TREE. 

I'M a merry little maid 
With my pick and hoe and spade, 

And I'm digging, diggiwg, digging everywhere. 
This little sapling lately stood 
Within a dark and leafy wood, 

And kept nodding, nodding at the maiden-hair; 
While the moss kept creeping, creeping, 
And the violets peeping, peeping, 

With those longing eyes so tender and so blue. 

But the sapling grew so slender, and I knew 
'Twas for its good. I shut my eyes, 
But oh ! you should have heard the sighs, 
As blindly I with one rash blow, 
Brought such terror and such woe 
To the moss and maiden-hair 
And the violets springing there. 

I'm a merry little maid 

With my pick and hoe and spade, 

And I'm digging, digging, digging everywhere. 
And on this pleasant Arbor Day, 
Amid the perfumes of the May, 

This sapling I transplant with tenderest care. 
Let each with shovel in his hand, 
Deposit here a bit of sand ; 

Please don't harm the clinging maiden-hair so true, 

Nor creeping moss with violets peeping through. 
I wonder if 'neath sunn}'- skies 
Will swell to heavenly rhapsodies 
These youthful loves nursed in the wood? 
Oh if they only, only could ! 
Or do the giant oaks outgrow 
Their sapling loves as people do ? 

I'm a merry little maid ' 

With my pick and hoe and spade, 

And I'm digging, digging, digging everywhere. 
Longfellow to his loves was true, 
And we bequeath his name to you, 

A noble name, an inspiration, royal, rare, 

And may moss keep creeping, creeping, 
And violets keep, peeping, peeping, 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



115 



Emblems of the clinging loves his manhood knew. 
May thy heart of oak like his be always true. 

And may thy branches o'er us sway, 

And in their rustling accents say, 

Repeating oft, "A psalm of life, " 

To us who come worn with the strife. 

And may its wisdom guide our way 

Until shall dawn our Arbor Day. 

Suggestions by the author. 

"Little Maid " enters the grounds with a small pick, hoe and spade, in her 
hand, followed by her class. 

They arrange themselves around the place where the tree is to be planted, in 
the form of a half circle, if you please. 

She now holds up to view the young tree, with moss, maiden hair and violets 
clinging to its roots. 

She begins speaking, holding the sapling until she says, "This sapling I 
transplant," etc. 

She now stands it in the hole prepared for it, and a young lad of the class — if 
there be one, and if not, another girl — steps forward and steadies the tree while 
one of the class steps forward and throws in some dirt, enough so it will stand 
— only one shovel full if it will do — and steps back. After she has finished 
her recitation, each member of the class in passing out will pick up the 
shovel and deposit sand. After they have gone to their seats, the young boy 
who was holding the tree up will recite Longfellow's " Psalm of Life," or some 
other appropriate poem by the same author. 

Or if thought best, let him recite it immediately after she is through, with the 
class still standing. 

St. Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 



THE GOLDEN ROD. 



FROM the flying train, behold, 
Ever changing fields of gold, 
Sunny slopes in luster laid, 
And old gold the hills in shade; 
Golden, golden ! Wave the plume, 
Freedom's followers give thee room ; 
Unsubdued by wit of man, 
S3'mbol flower, American. 

Like a bit of sky at night, 
Full of constellation light, 
Comes the vision of thy plume 
Bending o'er with starry bloom, 
Sunshine, dew and burnished gold, 
Each declare the story old, 
How in endless chain of thought 
"Wisdom unto wonder wrought. 



Symbol flow'r American, 
Underneath I see thy plan — 
Brotherhood of stems that run 
Closer till they meet in one. 
Type of higher federation — 
States unite, and lo, a nation ! 
To the world the lesson give, 
How to govern, how to live. 

Rich the bounty, here we see, 
To a people ever free; 
Plenty flows as beauty beams 
In a thousand golden streams. 
To a nation, golden rod 
Lifts its head above the sod, 
Love and justice to propose, 
Gold for friends, the rod for foes. 

Vick's Magazine. 



j j 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

THE DANDELION. 

A RECITATION accompanied with music for nine little girls, four girls each 
to recite a long paragraph, the short paragraphs to be recited in concert 
by the other five girls. 

All enter and sing first stanza of Gay Little Dandelion, from "The Vineyard 
of Song." 

First Girl recites: 

There's a dandy little fellow, 
Who dresses all in yellow, — 

In yellow with an overcoat of green ; 
With his hair all crisp and curly, 
In the spring-time bright and early, 

Tripping o'er the meadow he is seen. 

Second Girl : 

Through all the bright June weather, 

Like a jolly little tramp, 
He wanders o'er the hillside, down the road; 
Around his yellow feather 

The gypsy fire-flies camp; 
His companions are the woodlark and the toad. 

Five Girls recite in concert : 

Spick and spandy, little dandy ; 

Golden dancer in the dell ! 
Green and yellow, happy fellow, 

All the children love him well. 

(All sing second stanza of Gay Little Dandelion.) 

Third Girl: 

But at last this little fellow, 
Doffs his dandy coat of yellow, 

And very feebly totters o'er the green; 
For he very old is growing, 
And with hair all white and flowing, 

Nodding in the sunlight he is seen. 

Fourth Girl : 

The little winds of morning, 

Come flying through the grass, 
And clap their hands around him in their glee; 
They shake him without warning — ■ 

His wig falls off, alas ! 
A little bald-head dandy now is he. 

Five Girls recite in concert : 

O poor dandy ! once so spandy, 

Golden dancer on the lea ! 
Older growing, white hair flowing, 

Bald-head dandy now is he. 

(All sing third stanza of Gay Little Dandelion.) 




Published by courtesy of Messrs. E. H. Butler £■ Co., Philadelphia. 

THE OAK AND THE MISTLETOE SEED. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I I 7 



THE OAK AND THE MISTLETOE SEED. 

A SEED of the beautiful mistletoe was separated from its parent. It went 
forth in search of a home wherein it might receive protection and care. 
" Perhaps," said the little seed to itself, '' I may one day be a large and beautiful 
plant like that from which I have sprung." 

It knew hy instinct that the earth, in whose bosom the mighty forest trees 
buried their spreading roots, would have no welcome for a seed of mistletoe; 
that it must seek elsewhere the rest and nourishment it so desired. "Surely 
there must be room for me in the world ! " the wandering seed exclaimed. 

Seeing a stately elm it thought, " Here is a tree that must be as generous as 
he is stately, here shall be my home." But the elm was not generous. He 
scorned the humble petition of the seed, and said there was not a corner in his 
branches for a beggar. In vain did the seed plead its great need of help ; the 
elm was as hard as a stone, and cared not at all for the tiny creature's sorrow. 

A beech near by was even more narrow-minded than the elm, and fairly 
drove the seed away with the angry question: "Why should I afford a rest- 
ing place to vagrant shrubs of your kind ? " And the poor weary wanderer began 
to think that it would be as well to die at once as to die at the end of a long 
and fruitless pursuit. 

An oak in the forest, to whom the seed next appealed, listened to the sor- 
rowing voice of the wanderer, and was more merciful than the elm or the 
beech had been. Satisfied at last, the little seed found rest in the arms of the 
mighty oak. Before long a delicate green leaf appeared, and then another and 
another; and in time a beautiful shrub grew upon the great forest tree. 

When the summer had passed, the winds of autumn came moaning through 
the woods, and the leaves fell in showers. The stately elm lost its beautiful 
foliage, the beech stood bare and shivering in the blast, and even the hospitable 
oak saw his splendid drapery of green change and fall. And soon the winter's 
ice and snow made the forest desolate. Yet was the oak grand and attractive still. 

The mistletoe covered the broad bosom of the tree, and was indeed life in the 
midst of death. Strong and ever green, the winter could not rob it of its 
beauty or its strength. Its waxen berries, rivaling the snow in whiteness, 
seemed to the beech and elm like so many mocking eyes turned upon them. 
But to the venerable oak they were like rare and precious jewels. 

One fine day in winter, the oak made this speech to a merry little group who 
stood admiring the mistletoe : "When I received a tiny straying seed and gave 
it my protection, do you suppose that I knew what would follow ? If 1 had stood 
in the forest destitute of leaves as my fellow-trees are, would you have 
gathered around to admire me ? " 

" I know that the mistletoe with its white berries attracted your eyes, yet am 
I not proud to bear that shrub in my arms and to call it my foster-child ? Kind- 
ness enriches both the giver and the receiver. In my long, long life I have 
learned many lessons, but this is the best of all : be kind for the very sake of 
kindness, and you will have your reward." 



! j 8 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A SUMMER LONGING. 

I MUST away to wooded hills and vales, 
Where broad, slow streams flow cool and silently, 
And idle barges flap their listless sails. 
For me the summer sunset glows and pales, 
And green fields wait for me. 

I long for shadowy forests, where the birds 

Twitter and chirp at noon from every tree; 
I long for blossomed leaves and lowing herds ; 
And Nature's voices say in mystic woods, 
"The green fields wait for thee." 

I dream of uplands, where the primrose shines 
And waves her 5^ellow lamps above the lea; 

Of tangled copses, swung with trailing vines ; 

Of open vistas, skirted with tall pines, 
Where green fields wait for me. 

I think of long, sweet afternoons, when I 
May lie and listen to the distant sea, 

Or hear the breezes in the reeds that sigh, 

Or insect voices chirping shrill and dry, 
In fields that wait for me. 

These dreams of summer come to bid me find 
The forest's shade, the wild bird's melody, 
While summer's rosy wreaths for me are twined, 
While summer's fragrance lingers on the wind, 
And green fields wait for me. 



George Arnold. 



I 



OUR WILLOWS. 

T is when the east wind blows, But the moment the storm-wind blows, 

And his cohorts gather and ride, And the storm-clouds gather and ride, 

That the willows before my window They lift up their branches to heaven, 

Show me their silver side. And show me the silver side. 

***** 

When the air is sweet and still, 

And all heaven beams light and mirth, 'Tis not to fear and sadness, 
Though their green boughs quiver and They owe that silver sheen; 

sparkle Unseen, in calm and gladness, 

They look and lean to earth. It underlies the green. 

And when the North-west triumphs, 

And baffled storm-clouds flee, 

They fling out their silvery streamers, 

And hail the victory. 

Hours at Borne. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



119 



SPRING FLOWERS. 

WHEN Spring came into the garden The sleeping daffodils heard her, 
Her holiday-time to keep, And nodded low as she passed : 

She walked about in the dawning, Each blossom dropped like a pennon 
And found the flowers asleep. Hung out from a tall green mast. 

At first she wakened the snow-drops Into the violet's eyes she looked, 

And washed their faces with rain, And spoke till she made them hear. 

And then she fed them with sunlight, " What are you dreaming now ? " she said. 
And gave them white frocks again. They answered, "That Spring is here. 

The crocuses next she summoned, — And then the trees stretched their fingers 
In purple stripes and yellow, — And opened their curled-up leaves, 

And she made the south wind shake them And the birds who sat and watched them 
Till each one kissed his fellow. Flew straight to their cool green eaves. 

One made her nest in the ivy, 

And one in the apple-tree ; 
But the thrush showed hers in secret 

To the south wind and the bee. 



THE FIELDS IN MAY. 



W 



'HAT can better please. 

When your mind is well at ease, 
Than a walk among the green fields in May ? 
To see the verdure new, 
And to hear the loud cuckoo, 
While sunshine makes the whole world gay : 

When the butterfty so brightly 

On his journey dances lightly, 
And the bee goes by with business-like hum ; 

When the fragrant breeze and soft, 

Stirs the shining clouds aloft, 
And the children's hair, as laughingly they come : 

When the grass is full of flowers, 

And the hedge is full of bowers, 
And the finch and the linnet piping clear, 

Where the branches throw their shadows 

On a footway through the meadows, 
With a book among the cresses winding clear. 

W. Allingham. 



120 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



APRIL AND MAY. 

BIRDS on the boughs before the buds 
Begin to burst in the spring, 
Bending their heads to the April floods, 
Too much out of breath to sing ! 

They chirp, " Hey-day ! How the rain comes down ! 

Comrades cuddle together! 
Cling to the bark so rough and brown, 

For this is April weather. 

1 Oh, the warm, beautiful, drenching rain ! 

I don't mind it, do you ? 
Soon will the sky be clear again, 
Smiling and fresh, and blue. 

' Sweet and sparkling is every drop 

That slides from the soft, gray clouds ; 
Blossoms will blush to the very top 
Of the bare old trees in crowds. 

Oh, the warm, delicious, hopeful rain ! 

Let us be glad together, 
Summer comes flying in beauty again, 

Through the fitful April weather." 

Skies are glowing in gold and blue, 

What did the briar bird say? 
Plenty of sunshine to come, they knew, 

In the pleasant month of May ! 

She calls a breeze from the south to blow 

And breathe on the boughs so bare, 
And straight, they are laden with rosy snow 

And there's honey and spice in the air 

Oh, the glad green leaves ! Oh, the happy wind ! 

Oh, delicate fragrance and balm ! 
Storm and tumult are left behind 

In a rapture of golden calm. 

From dewy morning to starry night 

The birds sing sweet and strong, 
That the radiant sky is filled with light, 

That the days are fair and long. 

That the bees are drowsy about the hive. 

Earth is so warm and gay ! 
And 'tis joy enough to be alive 

In the heavenly month of May. Celia Thaxter. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. l 2 i 



TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, 

ON TURNING IT DOWN WITH A PLOW. 

WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flower, 
Thou 's met me in an evil hour ; 
For I maun crush amang the stoure 1 

Thy slender stem : 
To spare thee now is past my power, 
Thou bonnie gem ! 

Alas, it 's not thy neebor sweet, 
The bonnie lark, companion meet ! 
Bending the 'mang the dewy weet, 

Wi' speckled breast, 
When upward springing, blithe, to greet 

The purpling east. 

Cauld blew the bitter, biting north 
Upon thy early, humble birth; 
Yet cheerfully thou glinted- forth, 

Amid the storm ! 
Scarce reared above the parent earth 

Thy tender form. 

The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, 
High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield 
But thou, beneath the random bield 3 

O' clod or stane. 
Adorns the histie 4 stibble-field, 

Unseen, alane. 

There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 
Thy snawie bosom sunward spread, 
Thou lifts thy unassuming head 

In humble guise ; 
But now the share uptears thy bed, 

And low thou lies ! 

Such is the fate of simple bard, 

On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! 

Unskillful he to note the card 

Of prudent lore, 
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, 

And whelm him o'er. 



i. Dust. 2. Peeped. 3. Shelter. 4. Dry. 



122 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Such fate to suffering worth is given, 

Who long with wants and woes has striven, — 

By human pride or cunning driven 

To misery's brink, 
Till, wrench'd of every stay but Heaven, 

He, ruined,. sink. 

E'en thou who mourn'st the daisy's fate, 
That fate is thine, — no distant date ; 
Stern ruin's plowshare drives, elate, 

Full on thy bloom ; 
Till, crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, 

Shall be thy doom ! 

Robert Burns. 



A WOODLAND HYMN. 

WE seek remembered wood-paths, fragrant with breath of pines, 
In flecks the sunlight golden through leafy arches shines, 
The wild birds sweet are calling through all the balmy day, 
The liquid song of wood-thrush pours forth in joyous lay, 
The phcebe near the cottage with plaintive call doth sing, 
From shaded nook the partridge soars aloft on whirring wing. 

Fair are the gentle blossoms, the first sweet gift of Spring, 

Anemones and violets from old-time haunts we bring, 

With round leaf green and glossy, with pure, rich, creamy bloom, 

The Pyrola in beauty distills its rare perfume ; 

Here find we velvet mosses, lichens with ruby cup, 

From out whose dainty chalice, a fairy well might sup. 

O treasures of the woodland ! the lovely maiden-hair, 

Soft ferns with feathery tresses where cooling shadows are ; 

We find 'neath dried leaves hiding the trailing partridge-vine 

Bright mid its green leaves growing the scarlet berries shine; 

The chestnut burs are opening and from their velvet bed 

The brown nuts thickly falling with bright-hued leaves are shed. 

Oh ! wondrous is the glory in Autumn's changing light, 
Like fairy land the beauty within the woodlands bright, 
The golden Autumn sunshine, "God's everlasting smile," 
With pure, sweet radiance lighteth each shadowy forest aisle: 
A subtle balsam odor breathes through the dreamy air, 
A charm steals o'er the spirits, a lulling rest from care. 
Chnutauquan, October, 1885. PHEBE A. HOLDER. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 23 

CHOOSING A "STATE TREE." 

Nominations made by Students at Sag Harbor, N. Y., May 3, 1889. 

THE MAPLE. 

There are about fifty species of maple, ten of which are found in North America. 
Some are large trees growing- to a height of seventy or eighty feet, others are 
only small shrubs. They differ in the time at which the flowers appear. The 
floAvers of some appear before the leaves, of others at the same time with the 
leaves, and of others not until the leaves are fully developed. The leaves are 
deciduous and from three to seven lobed. The seeds have wings so that they 
do not fall to the ground very quickly and are scattered about by the wind. 
The flowers of the red and silver maples appear in March or April, and the 
seeds ripen in June, and fall to the ground, when they soon commence to grow 
and by autumn form small trees, one or two feet in height. The seeds of these 
species will not retain their vitality if kept until the next spring. The sap of 
some species of maple contains sugar which is obtained from the sap by evap- 
oration. The timber of the maple is used for some purposes, that of the sugar 
maple being the most valuable. The maple is of rapid growth, good form and, 
has wide-spreading branches, with very thick, bright-green foliage, which makes 
it a good shade and ornamental tree. The maple is a clean tree not being fre- 
quented by noxious worms, and does not litter the ground with leaves and 
twigs during the summer. With the first frosts of autumn the leaves of the 
maple change to various shades of red and yellow, and present a very hand- 
some appearance. Everett L. Tindall. 



T 1 



THE BLACK-WALNUT. 

*HE J. Nigra of the Juglans genus is a native of America. It flourishes in 
1 all parts of the United States, except in the extreme north, but principally 
in the fertile river basins, where it attains a height of seventy-five feet. It is one 
of the largest trees of North America, its branches spreading out in a horizon- 
tal direction for a long distance, giving it a very majestic appearance. 

The bark is thick, black, and becomes furrowed with age. The leaves, when 
bruised, emit a strong fragrant odor. The heart of the tree, after short expos- 
ure to the air, turns nearly black, hence the name, Black-walnut. The follow- 
ing qualities make the wood very valuable : 

1st. It remains sound for a long time, even after much exposure, ud. It is 
strong, tenacious, and when thoroughly seasoned, not liable to warp or split. 
3d. Its grain being fine and compact, admits of a very fine polish; the wood 
is also free from worms. 

It is chiefly used by cabinet-makers, but is sometimes converted into lumber. 

Its fruit is very rarely sold, being inferior to that of many other species. The 

above qualities, many of which are symbolic of the features in which New 

York State leads the Union, strongly recommend it to the wise as a State 

emblem. 

John W. Ripley. 



I 24 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE HEMLOCK. 

The northern part of the United States and Canada abounds largely in this 
tree. Although not remarkable for its beauty except when young, its uniform- 
ity and great height give it a very stately appearance. Being seventy or eighty 
feet high and having a circumference of from six to nine feet, the timber ob- 
tained from it is necessarily large, but because of its tendency to split, is not 
very highly esteemed for building purpose. The bark is very valuable for 
tanning. The leaves are two-rowed, flat and obtuse. Different varieties of this 
same species are the Black and White Spruce. The former unlike the Hem- 
lock is a valuable timber tree. From it the essence of spruce is obtained which 
' is used for making spruce beer. From the fibres of the roots of the White 
Spruce the Canadians get the thread with which they sew their birch bark 
canoes, the seams being made water tight with its resin, Both of the last- 
named varieties have quadrangular leaves. The most important advantages to 
the State are the bark it yields, the shade it gives and to some extent the 
timber obtained from it. May I. Bachelder. 

THE PINE TREE. 

The pines, which are distinguished from all other trees, by their foliage which 
consists of needle-shaped leaves in clusters of two to five, surrounded at the 
base by some of the withered bud scales, which form a sheath around them, 
constitute a large and interesting class of American forest trees. The most 
valuable species is that which is known as the Georgia Pitch Pine. Toward 
the north, the long-leaved pine makes its appearance near Norfolk, in Vir- 
ginia, where the pine barrens begin. It seems to be especially assigned to 
dry, sandy soils; and it is found almost without interruption, in the lower part 
of the Carolinas, Georgia and Florida, over a tract more than six hundred miles 
long, from north-east to south-west, and more than one hundred miles broad 
from the sea toward the mountains. 

The pines with the exception of one species in the Canaries, are confined to 
America, Europe and Asia, and are more abundant in the temperate and cooler 
portions of these. No trees are so useful to the arts of c vi'.ized life as these, as 
they not only furnish in abundance kinds of wood for which there is no proper 
substitute, but their other products are of great utility, the abundant juice of 
some species, which consists of a resin dissolved in a volatile oil, affords turpen- 
tines of various kinds, spirits of turpentine, resin, tar and other minor products. 

In the northern States, the lands which at the commencement of their settle- 
ments were covered with pitch pine, were exhausted in twenty-five or thirty 
years, and for more than half a century have ceased to furnish tar. In several 
species the nuts are edible, and are not only eaten by wild animals, but are col- 
lected for food. In ornamental planting, pines are exceedingly useful, as they 
present a great variety of habit and foliage, from species which never rise above 
a few feet up to those which have trunks large enough for a ship's mast. 

The pine barrens are of vast extent and are covered with trees of forest 
growth, but they cannot be all rendered profitable, from the difficulty of com- 
municating- with the sea. Louise Youngs. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. i 2 5 



THE ASH. 

The White Ash is one of the most 'interesting among the American species 
for the qualities of its wood, and the most remarkable for the rapidity of its 
growth and for the beauty of its foliage. A cold climate seems most congenial 
to its nature. 

It is everywhere called White Ash, probably from the color of its bark, by 
which it is easily distinguished. The White Ash sometimes attains a height 
of eighty feet, with a diameter of three feet, and is one of the largest trees of 
the United States. The trunk is perfectly straight and often undivided to the 
height of more than forty feet. On large stocks the bark is deeply furrowed, 
and divided into small squares from one to three inches in diameter. 

The leaves are twelve or fourteen inches long, opposite and composed of 
three or four pair of leaflets surmounted by an odd one. 

The leaflets are three or four inches long, about two inches broad, of a delicate 
texture and an undulated surface. 

Early in the spring they are covered with a light down, which gradually dis- 
appears, and at the approach of summer they are perfectly smooth, of a light 
green color above, and whitish beneath. 

It puts forth white or greenish flowers in the month of May, which are suc- 
ceeded by seeds that are eighteen inches long, cylindrical near the base, and 
gradually flattened into a wing, the extremity of which is slightly notched. 
They are united in bunches four or five inches long, and are ripe in the begin- 
ning of autumn. The shoots of the two preceding years are of a bluish-gray 
color and perfectly smooth. The distance between their buds sufficiently 
proves the vigor of their growth. 

Jennie Pierson. . 

THE OAK. 

The oak is a very common tree, and consists of many species, of which the 
White Oak is most common. Oaks are found over nearly the whole of the 
northern hemisphere, except the extreme north and the tropics, along the 
Andes. There are both deciduous and evergreen species, representing a won- 
derful difference in their leaves and general aspect, some being small shrubs, 
but all are easily recognized by their peculiar fruit consisting of an acorn and a 
cup, which never completely incloses the nut. 

The oak is long-lived, and specimens supposed to have been in existence 
before the settlement of this county, are still standing. As an ornamental 
tree, the White Oak is much esteemed. In autumn the leaves turn to a pur- 
plish color and remain upon the tree until a new growth next spring. It is also 
a good shade tree. The oak is one of the largest and strongest trees which 
grows in this State, and is, therefore, well adapted to be chosen as the tree of 
the Empire State. The oak is extensively used in ship-building, and is, there- 
fore, emblematical of a commercial State. 

Joseph Brobeck. 



j 26 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



TULIP TREE. 

This tree, which surpasses most others of North America in height and beauty 
of its foliage and flower, is one of the most interesting from the numerous and 
useful applications of its wood. It is a native of the United States, though the 
western States appear to be its natural soil, and it is there it displays its most 
powerful vegetation. 

It has a stem, sometimes from 100 to 140 feet in height and three feet thick, 
with a grayish-brown cracked bark, and many gnarled and easily broken 
branches. The leaves are roundish, ovate and three-lobed. The flowers are 
solitary at the extremities of the branchlets, are large, brilliant, variegated with 
different colors, have an agreeable, odor, and are very numerous on detached 
trees, producing a fine effect. The flowers bloom in June or July. 

The fruit is composed of a great number of thin narrow scales attached to a 
common axis, and forming a cone two or three inches in length. Each cone 
consists of sixty or seventy seeds, of which never more than a third are produc- 
tive. For three years before the tree begins to yield fruit, almost all the seeds 
are unproductive, and in large trees those from the highest branches are best. 

The bark of the tree has a bitter aromatic taste, and has been used as a sub- 
stitute for Peruvian bark in intermittent fevers, and is a good tonic. 

The tulip tree is one of the most beautiful ornaments of pleasure grounds 
whereon it grows and flowers well. The timber is easily wrought and is much 
used for many purposes. Madge Vail. 

THE ELM. 

The elm belongs to the order of ulmacea? or elmworts. There are several 
kinds of elms, some native of North America, some of Europe and some of 
Asia; such as the cork elm, the slippery elm, the American or white elm, etc., 
the last mentioned being the one we are to consider. This elm, namely the 
American elm, is one of the largest and most beautiful of its species It is a 
native of the forests of North America, being most common in the northern, 
middle and western States. It grows from seventy to eighty feet high, attaining 
its greatest size between latitude 42 and 46 degrees, where it sometimes reaches 
one hundred feet. The roots of the elm are very long and numerous, often ex- 
tending from one to two hundred feet ; thus it is generally pretty secure from 
cyclones and heavy gales of wind. It has a fine straight trunk from three to 
five feet in diameter, covered with a rough dark-gray bark, and reaching from 
thirty to sixty feet before separating into branches. Its branches are large, 
wide-spreading, graceful and overhanging, and in the summer thickly covered 
with foliage. The flower of the American elm opens in April before the tree 
comes into leaf. It is very small, of a purplish color, and collected in little ter- 
minal clusters. The leaves which appear in the month of Ma) r are from four to 
five inches long, and oval in shape. Its wood is white in color, flexible and 
very tough, and is used for a variety of purposes by wheelwrights. The Ameri- 
can elm is a great favorite as a shade tree. It is perfectly hardy, will grow in 
nearly any soil, and on the seacoast equally as well as in the interior. It is tall 
and stately in appearance, thus adding beauty and picturesqueness to the sur- 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



I2 7 



roundings; while its graceful, overhanging branches afford pleasant shade and 
favorite nesting places for birds. 

Many of the streets of New Haven city are lined on either side with long 
rows of fine large elm trees whose branches, gracefully pendent, meet and form 
lofty arches. It is, therefore, often called the City of Elms and is considered one 
of the most beautiful cities of the New England States. 

The American elm is very extensively planted as a shade tree both in private 
grounds and along public roads ; and on account of its many desirable qualities 
is universally liked as a village tree; and I think it one of the best adapted to 
be chosen for a State tree, and justly entitled to a large number of votes. 

F. C. Steuart. 

THE HICKORY. 

There have been a number of trees suggested as candidates for the honor of 
being the State tree of New York ; the oak, the pine, the elm, the tulip-tree, 
the maple, the walnut and many others. All are beautiful, but there are other 
considerations besides beauty in choosing a State tree, and the one most symbol- 
ical of New York in its size, vigor and productiveness will receive the choice. 

The oak and pine fulfill many of these conditions, but they are the generally 
acknowledged soldier trees. The oak fights the storms of centuries, and is so 
strong that it has become a byword, and when we wish to say men are invinci- 
ble in their courage, we say they have " hearts of oak." The pine is a sentinel, 
and likes to choose some barren, lonely height to do solemn picket-duty. But 
these are not lovable trees, they are not productive trees ; the}- are sturdy, 
independent, and hardy, and New York is all of these, but it is also a State of 
homes, a lovable State, and not a fighting State. It has no dangerous enemies 
to fight. Why should the population, — sleek Dutch market-gardeners from 
West Long Island, hurried business men from the cities and inky and theoreti- 
cal model farmers from the center of the State, — turn out to make a bayonet 
charge among the handful of dirty and drunken Indians on the State reserva- 
tions, or some equally harmless people ? 

Neither is it a lazy, effeminate State, to be symbolized by that very fop of 
trees, the tulip-tree, with its gorgeous flowers in spring, and its brilliant leaves 
in fall ; or by the dainty lady elm, with its graceful twig-drapery. Nor is it a 
State mourning over past glories and present deca)' ; a willow might be emblem 
of Egypt or Greece or Italy, but it is not of prosperous mercantile New York. 

But there is a tree which seems to typify the State, — a beautiful, vigorous, 
productive tree, not as large as some others perhaps, but size is not always 
strength, and important New York would cover a very small corner of unimpor- 
tant Texas ; a distinctively American tree, therefore fit to be a typical tree of a 
typical American State ; and this beautiful hickory tree has another quality, 
admirable in a tree, or a State, or a man, or any thing liable to misfortune ; you 
may bend a hickory sapling to the ground, — and when 3 r ou release it, it springs 
back as before, unbroken. This recuperative power is as remarkable in the 
State as in the tree. Our own Principal told us, in his delightful address on 
the Centennial day, how a hundred years ago New York city was an impover- 
ished, war-ravaged little town of twenty-five thousand inhabitants. As soon as 



! 2 g ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



the pressure of war was removed, New York recuperated, like the tree, so that 
there is no parallel for the growth of that second city in the world. 

As merely a beautiful shade tree, as merely a producer of delicious nuts, the 
hickory is unsurpassed; but as a type of vigorous, productive New York, it has 
no equal, and can have none. 

Florence Painter. 



SILENCE IS GOLDEN. 

THE flowers have no tongues. I do not mean that you must not talk. God 
has given us tongues, and means us to use them. But let the silent 
beauty of the flowers teach us to do all the good we can and make no fuss 
about it. Never be in a hurry to tell people you are Christians, but act so that 
they cannot help finding it out. 

Did you ever watch beans grow? They come up out of the ground as if 
they had been planted upside down. Each appears carrying the seed on top of 
his stalk, as if they were afraid folks would not know they were beans unless 
they immediately told them. But most flowers wait patiently and humbly to 
be known by their fruits. 

From " The World to Come." Chautauquan, February, 1888. 



What a noble gift to man are the forests ! What a debt of gratitude and ad- 
miration we owe for their utility and their beauty ! How pleasantly the shad- 
ows of the wood fall upon our heads when we turn from the glitter and turmoil 
of the world of man ! The winds of heaven seem to linger amid their balmy 
branches, and the sunshine falls like a blessing upon the green leaves; the wild 
breath of the forest, fragrant with bark and berry, fans the brow with grateful 
freshness; and the beautiful woodlight, neither garish or gloomy, full of calm 
and peaceful influences, sheds repose over the spirit. 

Susan Fenimore Cooper. 



The project of connecting the planting of trees with the names of authors is 
a beautiful one, and one certain to exert a beneficial influence upon the chil- 
dren who participate in these exercises. The institution of an "Arbor Day " is 
highly commendable from its artistic consequences, and cannot fail to result 
in great benefit to the climate and to the commercial interests of the country 
when it becomes an institution of general adoption. 

Prof. B. Pickman Mann, Son of Horace Mann : Extract from Letter. 



Plant the crab where you will, it will never bear pippins." 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. \ 29 



PLANTING FOR THE FUTURE. 

IN youth's glad morning hour, 
All life a holiday doth seem ; 
We glance adown time's vista long 
Beholding but the sunny gleam. 

The happy hearts that meet to-day, 

In a loving band are drawn more near 

By the loving end that crowns our work, 
Planting trees for a future year. 

O tender trees ! ye may thrive and grow, 
And spread your branches to the sun, 

When the youthful band assembled here, 
Has reaped life's harvest, every one. 

When the shining eye shall lose its fire, 
When the rosy cheek shall fade away, 

Thou'lt drink of the dew and bask in the light 
Forgetful of this Arbor Day. 

The bounding heart, the active limb, 

The merry laugh and sparkling jest. 
Be mingled with the things of earth, 

And sink to solitude and rest. 

But o'er this ground with branching arms, 
These trees shall cast their leafy shade, 

And other hearts as light and gay, 

Shall reap the shelter we have made. 

So let our planting ever be, 

Something in store for a future year, 
When homeward with our harvest bound, 

We'll meet the Master without fear. 

Little Falls, N. Y., 18S9. Harriet B. Wright. 



GRAY in his " Elegy " speaks of " the nodding beech " with its " old fantastic 
roots," the "favorite tree" of the "youth to fortune and to fame un- 
known," for whom he writes his ''Epitaph." 
He also says in his churchyard musings : 

" Beneath those rugged elms, that_y<?w trees shade 

When heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap. 
Each in his narrow cell, forever laid 

The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." 
9 



I 30 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



WAITING TO GROW. 

LITTLE white snowdrop, just waking up, 
Violet, daisy, and sweet buttercup ! 
Think of the flowers that are under the snow, 
Waiting to grow ! 

And think what hosts of queer little seeds — 
Of flowers and mosses, of ferns and weeds — 
Are under the leaves and under the snow, 
Waiting to grow ! 

Think of the roots getting ready to sprout, 
Reaching their slender brown fingers about, 
Under the ice and the leaves and the snow, 
Waiting to grow ! 

Only a month or a few weeks more, 
Will they have to wait behind that door ; 
Listen and watch for they are below — 
Waiting to grow ! 

Nothing so small, or hidden so well, 
That God will not find it, and very soon tell 
His sun where to shine, and his rain where to go, 
To help them grow ! 



FORGIVENESS. 

WHEN on a fragrant sandal tree 
The woodman's ax descends, 
And she who bloomed so beauteously, 
Beneath the weapon bends. 
E'en on the edge that wrought her death, 
Dying she breathes her sweetest breath, 
As if to token in her fall, 
Peace to her foes and love to all. 

How hardly man this lesson learns, 

To smile and bless the hand that spurns, 

To see the blow, to feel the pain, 

And render only love again ! 

One had it, but he came from heaven, 

Reviled, rejected and betrayed, 

No curse He breathed, no plaint He made, 

But when in death's dark pang He sighed, 

Prayed for his murderers, and died. J. Edmondston. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 1 3 1 

THE LAST DREAM OF THE OLD OAK TREE. 

A CHRISTMAS TALE. 

IN the forest high up on the steep shore, hard by the open sea-coast, stood a 
very old oak tree. It was exactly three hundred and sixty-five years old, 
but that long time was not more for the tree than just as many days would be 
to us men. We wake by day and sleep through the night, and then we have 
our dreams : it is different with the tree, which keeps awake through three 
seasons of the year, and does not get its sleep till winter comes. Winter is its 
time for rest, its night after the long day which is called spring, summer, and 
autumn. 

On many a warm summer day the ephemera, the fly that lives but for a day, 
had danced around his crown — had lived, enjoyed, and felt happy; and then 
rested for a moment in quiet bliss the tiny creature, on one of the great fresh 
oak leaves; and then the tree always said : 

" Poor little thing ! Your whole life is but a single day ! How very short ! 
It's quite melancholy!" 

"Melancholy! Why do you say that?" the ephemera would then always 
reply. " It is wonderfully bright, warm, and beautiful all around me, and that 
makes me rejoice ! '' 

" But only one day and then it's all done ! " 

"Done ! " repeated the ephemera. "What's the meaning of done? Are you 
done too ? " 

"No; I shall perhaps live for thousands of your days, and my day is whole 
seasons long ! It's something so long, that you can't at all manage to reckon 
it out." 

"No? then I don't understand you. You say you have thousands of my 
days ; but I have thousands of moments, in which I can be merry and happy. 
Does all the beauty of this world cease when you die? " 

" No," replied the tree ; " it will certainly last much longer — far longer than 
I can possibly think." 

"Well, then, we have the same time, only that we reckon differently." 

And the ephemera danced and floated in the air, and rejoiced in her delicate 
wings of gauze and velvet, and rejoiced in the balmy breezes laden with the 
fragrance of meadows and of wild-roses and elder-flowers, of the garden hedges, 
wild thyme, and mint, and daisies; the scent of these was all so strong that 
the ephemera was almost intoxicated. The day was long and beautiful, full of 
joy and of sweet feeling, and when the sun sank low the little fly felt very 
agreeably tired of all its happiness and enjoyment. The delicate wings would 
not carry it any more, and quietly and slowly it glided down upon the soft 
grass-blade, nodded its head as well as it could nod, and went quietly to sleep 
— and was dead. 

"Poor little ephemera ! " said the oak. "That was a terribly short life ! " 

And on every summer day the same dance was repeated, the same question 
and answer, and the same sleep. The same thing was repeated through whole 
generations of ephemera, all of them felt equally merry and equally happy. 



132 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



The oak stood there awake through the spring morning, the noon of sum- 
mer, and the evening of autumn; and its time of rest, its night, was coming on 
apace. Winter was approaching. 

Already the storms were singing their " good-night, good-night ! " Here fell 
a leaf and there fell a leaf. 

" We'll rock you and dandle you ! Go to sleep, go to sleep ! We sing you to 
sleep, we shake you to sleep, but it does you good in your old twigs, does it 
not? They seem to crack for very joy! Sleep sweetly, sleep sweetly! It's 
your three hundred and sixty-fifth night. Properly speaking, you're only a 
stripling as yet ! Sleep sweetly ! The clouds strew down snow, there will be 
quite a coverlet, warm and protecting, around your feet. Sweet sleep to you, 
and pleasant dreams ! " 

And the oak tree stood there denuded of all its leaves, to sleep through the 
long winter, and to dream many a dream, always about something that had 
happened to it — just as in the dreams of men. 

The great oak had once been small — indeed, an acorn had been its cradle. 
According to human computation, it was now in its fourth century. It was the 
greatest and best tree in the forest; its crown towered far above all the other 
trees, and could be descried from afar across the sea, so that it served as a 
landmark to the sailors : the tree had no idea how many eyes were in the habit 
of seeking it. High up in its green summit the wood-pigeon built her nest, 
and the cuckoo sat in its boughs, and sang his song; and in autumn, when 
the leaves looked like thin plates of copper, the birds of passage came and 
rested there, before they flew away across the sea ; but now it was winter, and 
the tree stood there leafless, so that every one could see how gnarled and 
crooked the branches were that shot forth from its trunk. Crows and rooks 
came and took their seat by turns in the boughs, and spoke of the hard times 
which were beginning, and of the difficulty of getting a living in winter. 

It was just at the holy Christmas time, when the tree dreamed its most 
glorious dream. 

The tree had a distinct feeling of the festive time, and fancied he heard the 
bells ringing from the churches all around ; and yet it seemed as if it were a fine 
summer's day, mild and warm. Fresh and green he spread out his mighty 
crown ; the sunbeams played among the twigs and the leaves ; the air was full 
of the fragrance of herbs and blossoms ; gay butterflies chased each other to 
and fro. The ephemeral insects danced as if all the world were created merely 
for them to dance and be merry in. All that the tree had experienced for years 
and years, and that had happened around him, seemed to pass by him again, as 
in a festive pageant. He saw the knights of ancient days ride by with their 
noble dames on gallant steeds, with plumes waving in their bonnets and fal- 
cons on their wrists. The hunting-horn sounded, and the dogs barked. He 
saw hostile warriors in colored jerkins and with shining weapons, with spear 
and halbert, pitching their tents and striking them again. The watch-fires 
flamed up anew, and men sang and slept under the branches of the tree. He 
saw loving couples meeting near his trunk, happily, in the moonshine; and 
they cut the initials of their names in the gray-green bark of his stem. Once 
— but long years had rolled by since then — citherns and ^Eolian harps had 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



been hung up on his boughs by merry wanderers ; and now they hung there 
again, ana once again they sounded in tones of marvelous sweetness. The 
wood-pigeons cooed, as if tney were telling what the tree felt in all this, and 
the cuckoo called out to tell him how many summer days he had yet to live. 

Then it appeared to him as if new fife were rippling down into the remotest 
fibre of his root, and mounting up into his highest branches, to the tops of the 
leaves. The tree felt that he was stretching and spreading himself, and through 
his root he felt that there was life and motion even in the ground itself. He 
felt his strength increase, he grew higher, his stem shot up unceasingly, and 
he grew more and more, his crown became fuller, and spread out; and in pro- 
portion as the tree grew, he felt his happiness increase, and his joyous hope 
that he should reach even higher — quite up to the warm, brilliant sun. 

Already had he grown high above the clouds, which floated past beneath his 
crown like dark troops of passage-birds, or like great white swans. And every 
leaf of the tree had the gift of sight, as if it had eyes wherewith to see; the 
stars became visible in broad daylight, great and sparkling; each of them 
sparkled like a pair of e)'es, mild and clear. They recalled to his memory well- 
known gentle eyes, eyes of children, eyes of lovers who had met beneath his 
boughs. 

It was a marvelous spectacle, and one full of happiness and joy! And yet 
amid all this happiness the tree felt a longing, a yearning desire that all other 
trees of the wood beneath him, and all the bushes, and herbs, and flowers, 
might be able to rise with him, that they too might see this splendor, and 
experience this joy. The great majestic oak was not quite happy in his happi- 
ness, while he had not them all, great and little, about him ; and this feeling of 
yearning trembled through his every twig, through his every leaf, warmly and 
fervently as through a human heart. 

The crown of the tree waved to and fro, as if he sought something in his 
silent longing, and he looked down. Then he felt the fragrance of thyme, and 
soon afterward the more powerful scent of honeysuckle and violets; and he 
fancied he heard the cuckoo answering him. 

Yes, through the clouds the green summits of the forest came peering up, 
and under himself the oak saw the other trees, as they grew and raised them- 
selves aloft. Bushes and herbs shot up high, and some tore themselves up 
bodily by the roots to rise the quicker. The birch was the quickest of all. Like 
a white streak of lightning, its slender stem shot upwards in a zigzag line, and 
the branches spread around it like green gauze and like banners ; the whole 
woodland natives, even to the brown-plumed rushes, grew up with the rest, 
and the birds came too, and sang; and on the grass blade that fluttered aloft 
like a long silken ribbon into the air, sat the grasshopper cleaning his wings 
with his legs ; the May beetles hummed, and the bees murmured, and every bird 
sang in his appointed manner; all was song and sound of gladness up into the 
high heaven. 

" But the little blue flower by the water-side, wheie is that? " said the oak; 
"and the purple bell-flower and the daisy?" for, you see, the old oak tree 
wanted to have them all about him. 

"We are here — we are here ! " was shouted and sung in reply. 



134 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



"But the beautiful thyme of last summer — and in the last year there was 
certainly a place here covered with lilies of the valley ! and the wild apple tree 
that blossomed so splendidly ! and all the glory of the wood that came year by 
year — if that had only just been born, it might have been here now!" 

"We are here, we are here ! " replied voices still higher in the air. It seemed 
as if they had flown on before. 

" Why, that is beautiful, indescribably beautiful ! " exclaimed the old oak tree, 
rejoicingly. " 1 have them all around me, great and small ; not one has been 
forgotten ! How can so much happiness be imagined ? How can it be possible? ' 

"In heaven, in the better land, it can be imagined, and it is possible!" the 
reply sounded through the air. 

And the old tree, who grew on and on, felt how his roots were tearing them- 
selves free from the ground. 

"That's right, that's better than all !" said the tree. "Now no fetters hold 
me ! I can fly up now, to the very highest, in glory and in light ! And all my 
beloved ones are with me, great and small — all of them, all!" 

That was the dream of the old oak tree; and while he dreamt thus a mighty 
storm came rushing over land and sea — at the holy Christmas-tide. The sea 
rolled great billows toward the shore; there was a crackling and crashing in 
the tree — his root was torn out of the ground in the very moment while he 
was dreaming that his root freed itself from the earth. He fell. His three 
hundred and sixty-five years were now as the single day of the ephemera. 

On the morning of the Christmas festival, when the sun rose, the storm had 
subsided. From all the churches sounded the festive bells, and from every 
hearth, even from the smallest hut, arose the smoke in blue clouds, like the 
smoke from the altars of the druids of old at the feast of thanks-offerings. 
The sea became gradually calm, and on board a great ship in the offing, that 
had fought successfully with the tempest, all the flags were displaj^ed, as a 
token of joy suitable to the festive day. 

"The tree is down — the old oak tree, our land-mark on the coast!" said the 
sailors. " It fell in the storm of last night. Who can replace it ? No one can." 

This was the funeral oration, short but well meant, that was given to the 
tree, which lay stretched on the snowy covering on the sea-shore ; and over its 
prostrate form sounded the notes of a song from the ship, a carol of the joys 
of Christmas, and of the redemption of the soul of man by His blood, and of 
eternal life. 

" Sing, sing aloud, this blessed morn — 
It is fulfilled — and He is born : 
Oh, i'oy without compare ! 

Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! " 

Thus sounded the old psalm-tune, and every one on board the ship felt lifted 
up in his own way, through the song and the prayer, just as the old tree had 
felt lifted up in its last, it most beauteous dream in the Christmas night. 

Hans Christian Andersen. 



Friendship is a sheltering tree. 

Coleridge, Youth and Age. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 3 5 



HISTORICAL TREES— Told in Rhyme. 

for a class exercise. 
All: 

ONE by one we are turning 
The leaves of Time's dusty book, 
And wonderful legends are written 
On each storied page we look. 

Legends of Indian warfare, 

Of crossing a trackless sea, 
Of hunger and cold endured by all, 

For the sake of being free. 

Far back when the world was younger 
The Romans, the stories say, 

When some wonderful thing had happened 
With a white stone marked the day. 

But instead of a stone for remembrance, 
We mark by a tall green tree, 

Full many a great event that's passed 
Since the Mayflower crossed the sea. 

First Child : 

So looking adown the centuries 

To those early frontier days, 
And ancient Philadelphia 

With its quaint old Quaker ways. 

I see 'neath the sachem's elm-tree, 

Penn and his fearless band, 
And the plumed and painted warriors 

Around him on ev'ry hand. 

Second Child : 

Here he called the Indian brothers 

And treated them like men, 
And none of the Indians ever broke 

That treaty made with Penn. 

Third Child: 

And even the British foemen 

Respected that ancient tree, 
And placed a guard to protect it 

From their hireling soldiery. 

Fourth Child : 

But ere another century 

Had been told above its head, 
A strong wind swept above it, 

And the ancient elm lay dead. 



136 A RBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Still the mother tells to her children 

As they climb upon her knee, 
Of the treaty of sixteen eighty-two, 

Beneath the old elm-tree. 

All. 
This tree was blown down in 1810, and proved by its rings to be 283 years 
old. A large part of it was sent to the members of Penn's family, and the 
remainder was made into boxes, chairs, etc. 

Fifth Child : 

Once when in England's stately halls, 

A new king wore the royal crown, 
And one with chains for liberty 

Sailed o'er the sea to Boston town. 

Throughout the land where e'er was heard 

The measured tread of soldiers' feet 
In all New England's colonies, 

The people's heart, as one heart beat 

And when the haughty leader came, 

Then every slumb'ring patriot woke, 

And they hid Connecticut's charter 
In the heart of a hollow oak. 

Sixth Child: 

But when old England changed her king 

It was taken from out the tree, 
And Hartford's Charter Oak became 

The symbol of liberty. 

All: 
The Vice-President's chair at Washington is made from the Charter Oak, 
which was blown down in 1856. 

Seventh Child : 

We've all of us heard of the Stamp Act, 

And Boston of 'sixty-five, 
And the meetings against taxation 

'Neath the old elm then alive. 

And how one August morning, 

On a branch of that tree so green, 
The effigies of the Governor, 

And old Lord Bute were seen. 

The people crowded around them 

From every part of the town, 
As they swung from the elm-tree branches 

Till the summer sun went down. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 3 7 

Eighth Child: 

And when four more months of trouble 

Into the past had sped, 
The royal governor 'neath that tree 

His resignation read. 

Ninth Child : 

But at last the lawless soldiery 
Beneath the old elm stood, 
And Boston's liberty-tree 

Became the Briton's firewood. 

All*. 
This elm was cut down by the British in 1775. The soldiers used it for 
firewood and got fourteen cords from it. 

Tenth Child : 

All over the land in 'sixty-five, 

In spite of king and crown, 
The liberty-trees were springing up, 

In every village and town. 

In Charleston, South Carolina, there was one, 

'Twas a great live oak, 
There it stood till in seventeen-eighty 

It was burned by the British folk. 

All: 
The Declaration of Independence was read and meetings were held under 
this tree. In 1780, it was cut down and burned by the British. 

Eleventh Child : 

When the Stamp Act had been repealed 

On Norwich's oak so green, 
On the topmost branch of the stately tree 

A Phrygian cap was seen. 

All: 
When the Stamp Act was repealed the people erected a tent under oak- 
spreading branches, and encouraged each other to resist all acts of oppression. 

Twelfth Child : 

And Washington in 'seventy-five, 

'Neath Cambridge's elm tree came, 
To take command of the army 

'Mid the people's loud acclaim. 

Thirteenth Child: 

And still on the green at Cambridge 

The old tree stands to-day, , 
Though rebel and tory long ago, 

To dust have mouldered away. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



All: 
This famous elm is still standing. It is also celebrated as the one under 
which Whitefield preached. 

All: 

So to-day as we turn from the present 

To the dusty past, we see 
How many a great and noble deed 
Is marked by a famous tree. 

Lizzie M. Hadley. 



MAGNOLIA-GRANDIFLORA. 



AJESTIC flower! How purely beautiful 



lVl Thou art, as rising from thy bower of green, 

Those dark and glossy leaves so thick and full, 

Thou standest like a high-born forest queen 
Among thy maidens clustering round so fair; — 

I love to watch thy sculptured form unfolding, 
And look into thy depths, to image there 

A fairy cavern, and while thus beholding, 
And while thy breeze floats o'er thee, matchless flower, 

I breathe the perfume, delicate and strong, 
That comes like incense from thy petal-bower ; 

My fancy roams those southern woods along, 
Beneath that glorious tree, where deep among 

The unsunned leaves thy large white flower-cups hung ! 

Christopher Pearse Cranch. 



THE YEW. 



EREWHILE, on England's pleasant shores, our sires 
Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades 
Or blossoms, but indulgent to the strong 
And natural dread of man's last home, the grave, 
Its frost and silence — they disposed around, 
To soothe the melancholy spirit that dwelt 
Too sadly on life's close, the forms and hues 
Of vegetable beauty. There the yew, 
Green ever amid the snows of winter, told 
Of immortality, and gracefully 
The willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped ; 
And there the gadding woodbine crept about, 
And there the ancient ivy. 



Bryant. The Bw-ial Place. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



139 



THE FUNERAL TREE OF THE SOKOKIS. 



" I have always admired," says Whittier, " the good taste of the Sokoki Indians around 
Sebago Lake, who, when their chief died, dug around a beech tree, swaying it down, 
and placed his body in the rent, and then let the noble tree fall back into its original 
place, a green and beautiful monument for a son of the forest." — Extract from letter. 



AROUND Sebago's lonely lake 
There lingers not a breeze to break 
The mirror which its waters wake. 



With grave cold looks all sternly mute, 
They break the damp turf at its foot, 
And bare its coiled and twisted root. 



The solemn pines along its shore, 
The firs which hang its gray rocks o'er 
Are painted on its glassy floor. 



They heave the stubborn trunk aside, 
The firm roots from the earth divide, — 
The rent beneath yawns dark and wide. 



Here in their hour of bitterness, come the 
broken band of Sokokis seeking a grave 
for their slaughtered chief. 



And there the fallen chief is laid 
In tasselled garbs of skins arrayed 
And girded with his wampum-braid. 



Fire and axe have swept it bare, 
Save one lone beech unclosing there 
Its light leaves in the vernal air. 



'Tis done : the roots are backward sent 
The beechen tree stands up unbent, — 
The Indian's fitting monument. 



There shall his fitting requiem be, 

In northern winds, that, cold and free, 

Howl nightly in the funeral tree. 



Whittier. 



LADY GOLDEN-ROD. 



0. 



PRETTY Lady Golden-rod, 
I'm glad you 've come to town ! 



I saw you standing by the gate, 
All in your yellow gown. 

No one was with me, and I thought 
You might be lonely, too ; 

And so I took my card-case 
And qame to visit you. 



You 're fond of company, I know ; 

You smile so at the sun, 
And when the winds go romping past, 

You bow to every one. 
How you should ever know them all, 

I'm sure I cannot tell ; 
But when I come again, I hope 

You'll know me just as well. 

Carrie W. Bronson. 



PINE-NEEDLES. 



IF Mother Nature patches 
The leaves of trees and vines, 
I'm sure she does her darning 
With needles of the pines ! 



They are so long and slender ; 

, And sometimes, in full view. 
They have their thread of cobwebs, 
And thimbles made of dew ! 

Wm. H. Hayne. 



1 a ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



UNDER THE WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE. 

APRIL 27, l86l. 



EIGHTY years have passed, and more, 
Since under the brave old tree 
Our fathers gathered in arms, and swore 
They would follow the sign their banners bore, 
And fight till the land was free. 

Half of their work was done, 

Half is left to do- 
Cambridge, and Concord and Lexington ! 
When the battle is fought and won, 

What shall be told of you ? 

Hark ! — 't is the south wind moans, — 

Who are the martyrs down ? 
Ah, the marrow was true in your children's bones 
That sprinkled with blood the cursed stones 

Of the murder-haunted town ! 

What if the storm-clouds blow? 

What if the green leaves fall ? 
Better the crashing tempest's throe 
Than the army of worms that gnawed below; 

Trample them one and all ! 

Then, when the battle is won, 

And the land from traitors free, 
Our children shall tell of the strife begun 
When Liberty's second April sun 

Was bright on our brave old tree. 

Holmes. 



FLOWERS AND FOLIAGE. 

DID you ever think how different the world would be — .what a sad want 
there would be in it — if it wanted flowers? The green herbage and 
foliage are also beautiful both in form and in color. In winter, when the 
plants are withered, and the trees are bare, how bleak and dreary the country 
looks ! When spring returns, how gladly we watch the bursting of the buds, 
and behold the trees and plants putting forth anew their leaves and blossoms ! 
Bright flowers, green trees, and singing birds ! our hearts are the lighter for 
them. 




THE WASHINGTON ELM CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



HI 



DISCONTENT. 



DOWN in a field, one day in June, 
The flowers all bloomed together, 
Save one, who tried to hide herself, 

And drooped, that pleasant weather. 

A robin who had flown too high, 

And felt a little lazy, 
Was resting near this buttercup 

Who wished she were a daisy; 

For daisies grow so trig and tall ! 

— She always had a passion 
For wearing frills around her neck, 

In just the daisies' fashion. 

And buttercups must always be 
The same old tiresome color; 

While daisies dress in gold and white, 
Although their gold is duller. 



" Dear robin," said this sad young flower, 
" Perhaps you'd not mind trying 
To find a nice white frill for me, 

Some day when you are flying?" 

" You silly thing ! " the robin said, 
" I think you must be crazy; 
I'd rather be my honest self 
Than any made-up daisy. 

" You're nicer in your own bright gown; 
The little children love you: 
Be the best buttercup you can, 

And think no flower above you. 

" Though swallows leave me out of sight, 
We'd better keep our places: 
Perhaps the world would all go wrong 
With one too many daisies. 



Look bravely up into the sky, 

And be content with knowing 

That God wished for a buttercup 

Just here, where you are growing." 



Sara O. Jewett. 



UNITED. 



A 



SUMACH tall, 
By a garden wall, 
Bloomed through the summer air; 
Within there grew, 
Of every hue, 
Flowers exceeding fair. 

The sumach burned, 
When the dahlia turned 

Her laughing face of gold, 
To where he stood, 
By the rough dogwood, 

Outside of the garden fold. 



An outcast he, • 

Yet, tenderly 
He loved the garden queen, 

And well she knew, 

So close they grew, 
With but a wall between. 

What mattered birth ? 

The selfsame earth 
Had nursed their infant seed; 

But custom said: 
" No flower should wed 
A rough, plebeian weed." 



One chilly night, 

The frost king's blight, 

Fell over woods and farms; 
Next day, quite dead, 
The dahlia's head 

Lay in the sumach's arms. 



Helen F. O'Neill. 



142 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



THE MARRIAGE OF THE FLOWERS. 

TT is six," the swallows twittered, "and you're very late in rising — 
X If you really think of rising on this lovely morn at all — 
For the great red sun is peeping over wood and hill and meadow, 
And the unmilked cows are lowing in the dimly-lighted stall." 

Oh, ye robins and ye swallows, thought I, throwing back the lattice. 
Ye are noisy, joyous fellows, and you waken when you will ; 

Then I saw a dainty letter, bound in ribbon-grass and clover, 

That the swallows had left swinging by the narrow window-sill. 

Oh, the dainty, dainty letter, on an orange leaf, or lemon, 

Signed, "Your friend, the Queen of Roses," writ in characters of dew; 
" You're invited to the garden, there's a good time there at seven, 
And a place beside the apple-tree has been reserved for you." 

"There'll be matings there, and marriages, of every flower and blossom; 
Cross the brook behind the arbor, and come early, if you can." 
Oh, my thoughts they all went bounding, and my heart leaped in my bosom, 
"And how sweetly she composes," I reflected as I ran. 

There she sat, the Queen of Roses, with her virgins all about her, 

While the lilacs and the apple-blooms seemed waiting her command. 

Oh, how lovely, oh, how gracious, she did smile on each new comer; 
Oh, how sweet she kissed the lilies as she took them \>y the hand. 

Never had I seen her fairer than she was this happy morning, 

Never knew her breath delicious, half so boundless, half so rare ; 

Oh, she seemed a thing of heaven, with the dew upon her bosom, 
And I wished I were some daffodil, that I might kiss it there. 

All at once the grass rows parted, and the sweetest notes were sounded, 
There was music, there was odor, there was loving in the air; 

And a hundred joyous gallants, robed in holiday apparel, 

Danced beneath the lilac bushes with a hundred maidens fair. 

There were tulips proud and yellow, with their great green spears beside 
them; 

There were lilies grandly bowing to the rose queen as they came ; 
There were daffodils so stately, scenting all the air of heaven ; 

Joyous buds and sleeping poppies, with their banners all aflame. 

There were pansies robed in purple, marching o'er the apple-blossoms 
And the foxgloves with their pages tripped coquettishly along; 

And the violets and the daisies, in their bonnets blue and yellow, 
Joined the marching and parading of th' innumerable throng. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 43 

All at once the dandelion blew three notes upon his trumpet ; 

" Choose ye partners for the dancing, gallant knights and ladies fair; " 
And the honeysuckle court'sied to the young sweet-breathed clematis, 
And remarked upon the sweetness of the blossoms in her hair. 

We're the tallest," said the tuberose to the iris, standing nearest, 

"And suppose that now, for instance, I should offer )^ou my heart?" 
Oh, how sudden," cried the sly thing; " I am really quite embarrassed — 
Unexpected, but pray do it, just to give the rest a start." 

Then a daisy kissed a pansy, with its jacket brown and yellow, 
And the crocus led a thistle to a seat beside the rose ; 

And the maybells grouped together, close beside the lady-slipper, 
And commented on the beauty and the splendor of her clothes. 

Oh, a market this for beautjr," said a jasmine, gently clinging 

To the strong arm of an orange, as a glance on him she threw, 
' Why, you scarcely would believe it, but I've had this very morning 
Twenty offers, and declined them, just to promenade with you." 

So in groupings or in couples, led each knight some gentle lady, 

Led some fair companion blushing, past the windrows fresh and green; 

And the sweet rose gave her blessing, and a kiss at times, it may be, 
To the fairest brides and sweetest, mortal eye hath ever seen. 

Then again the grass it parted, and the sunshine it grew brighter, 
Till it seemed as if the curtains of high heaven were withdrawn, 

And each flower and bud and blossom pressed some fair one to its bosom, 
As the bannered train danced gaily 'twixt the windrows on the lawn. 

Oh, the musk-rose was so stately ! and so stately was the queen rose ! 
And how sweetly smiled she on me as she whispered in my ear, 
' Come again ; you know you're welcome; come again, dear, for it may be 
That our baby buds and blossoms will be christened here next year." 
Adjutant S. H. M. Byers, Oskaloosa, Iowa. 



A GRAIN OF CORN. 

A GRAIN of corn an infant's hand 
May plant upon an inch of land, 
Whence twenty stalks may spring and yield 
Enough to stock a little field. 

The harvest of that field might then 

Be multiplied to ten times ten, 

Which sown thrice more, would furnish bread 

Wherewith an army might be fed. 



1 44 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE WILD VIOLET. 

VIOLET, violet, sparkling with dew, 
Down in the meadow-land wild where you grew, 
How did you come by the beautiful blue 
With which your soft petals unfold ? 
And how do you hold up your tender young head, 
When rude sweeping winds rush along o'er your bed, 
And dark, gloomy clouds, ranging over you, shed 
Their waters so heavy and cold ? 

No one has nursed you or watched you an hour, 
Or found you a place in the garden or bower ; 
And no one can yield me so lovely a flower 

As here I have found at my feet. 
Speak, my sweet violet ! answer and tell 
How you have grown up and flourished so well, 
And look so contented where lowly you dwell, 

And we thus by accident meet ! 

"The same careful hand,'* the violet said, 
"That holds up the firmament, holds up my head; 
And He who with azure the skies overspread 

Has painted the violet blue. 
He sprinkles the stars out above me by night, 
And sends down the sunbeams at morning with light, 
To make my new coronet sparkling and bright, 
When formed of a drop of His dew. 

"I've naught to fear from the black heavy cloud, 
Or the breath of the tempest that comes strong and loud, 
Where, born in the lowland, and far from the crowd, 

I know and I live but for One. 
He soon forms a mantle about me to cast, 
Of long, silken grass, till the rain and the blast, 
And all that seemed threatening, have harmlessly passed 
As the clouds scud before the warm sun ! " 

Hannah F. Gould. 



APRIL. 



NOW daisies pied, and violets blue, Do paint the meadows with delight ; 

And lady-smocks all silver white, The cuckoo now on every tree, 
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Sings cuckoo ! cuckoo ! 

Shakespeare. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. Iz jr 



THE LIVE OAK. 

WITH his gnarled old arms, and his iron form 
Majestic in the wood, 
From age to age, in the sun and storm, 

The live-oak long hath stood, 
With his stately air, that grave old tree, 

He stands like a hooded monk, 
With the gray moss waving solemnly 
From his shaggy limbs and trunk. 

And the generations come and go, 

And still he stands upright, 
And he sternly looks on the wood below, 

As conscious of his might. 
But a mourner sad is the hoary tree, 

A mourner sad and lone, 
And is clothed in funeral drapery 

For the long-since dead and gone. 

For the Indian hunter, beneath his shade, 

Has rested from the chase ; 
And he here has wooed his dusky maid — 

The dark-eyed of her race; 
And the tree is red with the gushing gore, 

As the wild deer panting dies ; 
But the maid is gone and the chase is o'er, 

And the old oak hoarsely sighs. 

In former days, when the battle's din 

Was loud amid the land, 
In his friendly shadow, few and thin, 

Have gathered Freedom's band ; 
And the stern old oak, how proud was he 

To shelter hearts so brave ! 
But they all are gone, — the bold and free, — 

And he moans above their grave. 

And the aged oak, with his locks of gray, 

Is ripe for the sacrifice ; 
For the worm and decay, no lingering prey, 

Shall he tower towards the skies ! 
He falls, he falls, to become our guard, 

The bulwark of the free ; 
And his bosom of steel is proudly bared 

To brave the raging sea ! 
10 



I4 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

When the battle comes, and the cannon's roar 

Booms o'er the shuddering deep, 
Then nobly he'll bear the bold hearts o'er 

The waves, with bounding leap. 
O, may those hearts be as firm and true, 

When the war-clouds gather dun, 
As the glorious oak that proudly grew 

Beneath our southern sun. 



Henry R. Jackson. 



READY FOR DUTY. 

DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. 

DAFFY-down-dilly came up in the cold* 
Through the brown mould, 
Although the March breezes blew keen on her face, 
Although the white snow lay on many a place. 

Daffy-down-dilly had heard under ground 

The sweet rushing sound 
Of the streams as they burst off their white winter chains — 
Of the whistling spring winds and the pattering rains. 

" Now, then," thought Daffy, deep down in her heart, 
" It's time I should start ! " 
So she pushed her soft leaves through the hard frozen ground. 
Quite up to the surface, and then she looked round. 

There was snow all about her, — gray clouds overhead, — 

The trees all looked dead: 
Then how do you think Daffy-down-dilly felt 
When the sun would not shine, and the ice would not melt ? 

"Cold weather ! " thought Daffy, still working away : 
" The earth's hard to-day ! 
There 's but a half inch of my leaves to be seen, 
And two-thirds of that is more yellow than green ! 

*' I can't do much yet; but I'll do what I can, 
It's well I began ! 
For, unless I can manage to lift up my head, 
The people will think that the Spring-time is dead." 

So, little by little, she brought her leaves out, 

All clustered about ; 
And then her bright flowers began to unfold, 
Till Daffy stood robed in her spring green and gold. 

O, Daffy-down-dilly ! so brave and so true ! 

Would all were like you, — 
So ready for duty in all sorts of weather, 
And loyal to courage and duty together. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



147 



THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. 

IS this a time to be cloudy and sad, 
When, our mother Nature laughs around, 
When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? 

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; 

The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 

The clouds are at play in the azure space, 

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale, 
And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 

And there the)'- roll on the easy gale. 

There 's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower; 

There 's a titter of winds in that beechen tree ; 
There 's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, 

And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 

And look at the broad-faced sun ; how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 

On the leaping waters and gay young isles — 
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away ! 



Bryant. 



THEY'VE CUT THE WOOD AWAY. 



They've cut the wood away, 
The cool green wood, 

Wherein I used to play 
In happy mood. 

The woodman's ax has cleft 

Each noble tree, 
And now, alas, is left 

No shade for me. 

The brooks that flow in May 

Are dry before 
The first hot summer day, 

And flow no more. 

The fields are brown and bare, 

And parched with heat; 
No more doth hover there 
The pine scents sweet. 
Boston Journal. 



No more his note is heard 

To blithely ring 
Where erst the woodland bird 

Would sit and sing. 

No more the wood-flowers bloom 
Where once they bloomed 

Amid the emerald gloom 
Of ferns entombed. 

Fled, now, the woodland sights, 

The scented air ! 
Fled, all the sweet delights 

That once were there ! 

And fled the gracious mood 

That came to me, 
When to that quiet wood 

I used to flee ! 



1 48 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



ARBUTUS. 

SWEET welcome to thee, dainty winsome flower ! 
Beloved ! bringing joy for April's tears, 

Upspringing in the track of wintry fears 
That ghostly haunt spring's timid, 'wakening hour. 
The banished months have left thee beauty's power : 

The autumn, crimson blush ; its snowy kiss, 

The dying winter; and the summer's bliss 
Of fragrance in thy breath — a precious dower ! 

What blossom so beloved as thou dost hide 
As thou, 'neath rusty leaves that men despise ? 

Thus rest unseen, till covert torn aside 
Thy secret yields. Then gladden with surprise 
And new-born hope, some sad soul's yearning eyes, 
That under death such living joys abide. 
Chautanquan, April, 1888. ANNE Hall. 



THE WOODLAND IN SPRING. 

E'EN in the spring and play-time of the year, 
That calls th' unwonted villager abroad 
With all her little ones, a sportive train, 
To gather kingcups in the yellow mead, 
And prink their hair with daisies, or to pick 
A cheap but wholesome salad from the brook ; 
These shades are all my own. The timorous hare, 
Grown so familiar with her frequent guest, 
Scarce shuns me ; and the stock-dove, unalarmed, 
Sits cooing in the pine tree, nor suspends 
His long love-ditty for my near approach. 
Drawn from' his refuge in some lonely elm, 
That age or injury has hollowed deep, 
Where on his bed of wool and matted leaves, 
He has outslept the winter, ventures forth 
To frisk awhile, and bask in the warm sun, 
The squirrel, flippant, pert and full of play ; 
He sees me, and at once, swift as a bird, 
Ascends the neighboring beech ; there whisks his brush, 
And perks his ears, and stamps and cries aloud, 
With all the prettiness of feigned alarm, 
And anger insignificantly fierce. Cowper. 



To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 

Milton's Lycidas. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 149 



AN APRIL DAY. 

WHEN the warm sun that brings 
Seed time and harvest, has returned again, 
Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs 
The first flower of the plain. 

I love the season well, 

When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, 
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell 

The coming-on of storms. 

From the earth's loosening mould 

The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives; 
Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold, 

The drooping tree revives. 

The softly warbled song 

Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings 
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along 

The forest openings. 

When the bright sunset fills 

The silver woods with light, the green slope throws 
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills, 

And wide the upland grows. 

And when the eve is born, 

In the blue lake the sky, o'er reaching far, 
Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn, 

And twinkles many a star. 

Inverted in the tide 

Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw, 
And the fair trees look over, side by side, 

And see themselves below. 

Sweet April ! many a thought 

Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed ; 
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, 

Life's golden fruit is shed. 

Longfellow. 



One impulse from 'a vernal wood, 

May teach you more of man, 
Of moral evil and of good, 

Than all the sages can. WORDSWORTH. 



I 50 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPRING POINTING TO GOD. 

Loosed from the bands of frost, the verdant ground 

Again puts on her robe of cheerful green, 
Again puts forth her flowers ; and all around, 

Smiling, the cheerful face of spring is seen. 

Behold the trees new-deck their withered boughs; 

Their ample leaves the hospitable plane, 
The taper elm, and lofty ash disclose; 

The blooming hawthorn variegates the scene. 

The lily of the vale, of flowers the queen, 

Puts on the robe she neither sewed nor spun : 

The birds on ground, or on the branches green, 
Hop to and fro, and glitter in the sun. 

Soon as o'er eastern hills the morning peers, 

From her low nest the tufted lark up-springs ; 

And cheerful singing, up the air she steers; 

Still high she mounts, still loud and sweet she sings. 

On the green furze, clothed o'er with golden blooms, 

That fill the air with fragrance all around, 
The linnet sits, and tricks his glossy plumes. 

While o'er the wild his broken notes resound. 

While the sun journeys down the western sky, 

Along the greensward, marked with Roman mound, 

Beneath the blithesome shepherd's watchful eye, 
The cheerful lambkins dance and frisk around. 

Now is the time for those who wisdom love, 

Who love to walk in virtue's flowery road, 
Along the lovely paths of spring to rove, 

And follow Nature up to Nature's God. 

Bruce. 



O, willow, why forever weep, 

As one who mourns an endless wrong? 
What hidden woe can lie so deep? 

What utter grief can last so long ? 
Mourn on forever, unconsoled, 

And keep your secret, faithful tree ! 
No heart in all the world can hold 

A sweeter grace than constancy. 

Elizabeth Allen. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



151 



MAY. 

HEN apple-trees in blossom are, When happy shepherds tell their tale 

And cherries of a silken white; Under the tender leafy tr«e; 



w 



And king-cups deck the meadows fair; And all adown the grassy vale 

And daffodils in brooks delight; The mocking cuckoo chanteth free; 

When golden wall-flowers bloom around, And Philomel, with liquid throat, 

And purple violets scent the ground, Doth pour the welcome, warbling note, 

And lilac 'gins to show her bloom, — That had been all the winter dumb, — 

We then may say the May is come. We then may say the May is come. 

When fishes leap in silver stream, 

And tender corn is springing high, 
And banks are warm with sunny beam, 

And twittering swallows cleave the sky, 
And forest bees are humming near, 
And cowslips in boys' hats appear, 
And maids do wear the meadow's bloom, — 
We then may say the May is come. 

Clarke. 



EARLY SPRING. 

THE hawthorn whitens, and the juicy groves 
Put forth their buds unfolding by degrees, 
Till the whole leafy forest stands displayed, 
In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales ; 
Where the deer rustle through the twining brake, 
And the birds sing concealed. At once, arrayed 
In all the colors of the flushing year, 
By Nature's swift and secret-working hand, 
The garden glows, and fills the liberal air 
With lavish fragrance : while the promised fruit 
Lies yet a little embryo, unperceived, 
Within its crimson folds. Now from the town, 
Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, 
Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, 
Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops 
From the bent bush as through the verdant maze 
Of sweet-brier hedges I pursue my walk ; 
Or taste the smell of dairy : or ascend 
Some eminence, Augusta, in thy plains, 
And see the country far diffused around, 
One boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower 
Of mingled blossoms, where the raptured eye 
Hurries from joy to joy. 

Thomson. 



I 5 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE SPIRIT OF POETRY. 

THERE is a quiet spirit in these woods, 
That dwells where'er the gentle south wind blows ; 
Where, underneath the white thorn, in the glade, 
The wild flowers bloom, or kissing the soft air, 
The leaves above their sunny palms outspread. 
With what a tender and impassioned voice 
It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought, 
When the fast-ushering star of morning comes 
O'er riding the gray hills with golden scarf; 
Or when the cowled and dusky-sandaled Eve, 
In mourning weeds, from out the western gate, 
Departs with silent pace ! That spirit moves 
In the green valley, where the silver brook, 
From its full laver, pours the white cascade; 
And, babbling low amid the tangled woods, 
Slips down through moss-grown stones with endless laughter. 

And frequent on tne everlasting hills, 

Its feet go forth, when it doth wrap itself 

In all the dark embroidery of the storm, 

And shouts the stern strong wind. And here, amid 

The silent majesty of these deep woods, 

Its presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth, 

As to the sunshine and the pure bright air 

Their tops the green trees lift. Hence gifted bards 

Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades. 

For them there was an eloquent voice in all 

The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, 

The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way, 

Blue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle winds, 

The swelling upland, where the sidelong sun 

Aslant the wooded slope, at evening, goes, 

Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in, 

Mountain, and shattered cliff, and sunny vale, 

The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees, 

In many a lazy syllable, repeating 

Their old poetic legends to the wind. 

And this is the sweet spirit, that doth fill 

The world, and in these wayward days of youth, 

My busy fancy oft embodies it, 

As a bright image of the light and beauty 

That dwell in nature ; of the heavenly forms 

We worship in our dreams, and the soft hues 

That stain the wild bird's wing, and flush the clouds 



• ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 1 53 

When the sun sets. Within her tender eye 

The heaven of April, with its changing light, 

And when it wears the blue of May, js hung, 

And on her lip the rich, red rose. Her hair 

Is like the summer tresses of the trees 

When twilight makes them brown, and on her cheek 

Blushes the richness of an autumn sky,. 

With ever-shifting beauty. Then her breath, 

It is so like the gentle air of spring, 

As, from the morning's dewy flowers, it comes 

Full of their fragrance, that it is a joy 

To have it round us, and her silver voice 

Is the rich music of a summer bird, 

Heard in the still night, with its passionate cadence. 

Longfellow. 



SPRING MORNING. 

COME hither, come hither, and view the face 
Of nature, enrobed in her vernal grace. 
By the hedgerow wa)'side flowers are springing; 
On the budding elms the birds are singing; 
And up, up, up to the gates of heaven 
Mounts the lark, on the wings of her rapture driven; 
The voice of the streamlet is fresh and loud ; 
On the sky there is not a speck of cloud : 
Come hither, come hither, and join with me, 
In the season's delightful jubilee ! 

Come hither, come hither, and guess with me, 

How fair and how fruitful the year will be ! 

Look into the pasture-grounds o'er the pale, 

And behold the foal w ; th its switching tail, 

About and abroad, in its mirth it flies, 

With its long black forelocks about its eyes ; 

Or bends its neck down with a stretch, 

The daisy's earliest flowers to reach. 

See ! as on by the hawthorn fence we pass, 

How the sheep are nibbling the tender grass, 

Or holding their heads to the sunny ray, 

As if their hearts, like its smile, were gay : 

While the chattering sparrows, in and out, 

Fly the shrubs, and the trees, and the roofs about, 

And sooty rooks, loudly cawing roam, 

With sticks and straws, to their woodland home. 

Moir 



'54 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



SUNRISE ON THE HILLS. 

I STOOD upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch 
Was glorious with the sun's returning march, 
And woods were brightened, and soft gales 
Went forth to kiss the sun-clad vales. 
The clouds were far beneath me ; bathed in light, 
They gathered mid-way round the wooded height, 
And, in their fading glory, shone 
Like hosts in battle overthrown, 
As many a pinnacle with shifting glance, 
Through the gray mist thrust up its shattered lance, 
And rocking on the cliff was left 
The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft. 
The veil of cloud was lifted, and below 
Glowed the rich valley, and the river's flow 
Was darkened by the forest's shade, 
Or glistened in the white cascade : 
Where upward, in the mellow blush of day, 
The noisy bittern wheeled his spiral way. 

1 heard the distant waters dash, 

I saw the current whirl and flash, 

And richly, by the blue lake's silver beach, 

The woods are bending with a silent reach. 

Then o'er the gale with gentle swell, 

The music of the village bell 

Came sweetly to the echo-giving hills ; 

And the wild horn, whose voice the woodland fills, 

Was ringing to the merry shout, 

That faint and far the glen sent out, 

Where, answering to the sudden shot, thin smoke, 

Through thick-leaved branches, from the dingle broke. 

If thou art worn and hard beset 

With sorrows, that thou would'st forget 

If thou would'st read a lesson, that will keep 

Thy heart from faintingand thy soul from sleep, 

Go to the woods and hills ! No tears 

Dim the sweet look that Nature wears. 

Longfellow 



Temperance is a tree which has for a root very little contentment, and for 

fruit, calm and peace. 

Buddha. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



155 



FLOWERS. 

SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, 
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, 
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, 
Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. 

* >fi * * * ^ 

Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, 
God hath written in those stars above ; 

But not less in the bright flowerets under us 
Stand the revelation of His love. 

Bright and glorious is that revelation, 

Written all over this great world of ours ; 

Making evident our own creation, 

In these stars of earth, these golden flowers. 



Everywhere about us they are glowing, 

Some like stars, to tell us Spring is born ; 

Others, their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing, 
Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn. 



In all places then, and in all seasons, 

Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings, 
Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, 

How akin they are to human things. 

And with childlike, credulous affection 
We behold their tender buds expand ; 

Emblems of our own great resurrection, 
Emblems of the bright and better land. 



Longfellow. 



THE YOUNG DANDELION. 



I AM a bold fellow 
As ever was seen. 
With my shield of yellow, 
In the grass green. 

You may uproot me 

From field and from lane 
Trample me, cut me, — 
spring up again. 



Drive me from garden 
In anger and pride, 

I'll thrive and harden 
By the roadside. 

Not a bit fearful, 

Showing my face, 

Always so cheerful, 
In every place. 

Mrs. Craik. 



156 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPRING. 

IN all climates spring is beautiful. The birds begin to sing; they utter a few 
joyful notes, and then wait for an answer in the silent woods. Those green- 
coated musicians, the frogs, make holiday in the neighboring marshes. They, 
too, belong to the orchestra of nature, whose vast theater is again opened, 
though the doors have been so long bolted with icicles, and the scenery hung 
with snow and frost like cobwebs. This is the prelude which announces the 
opening of the scene. Already the grass shoots forth, the waters leap with 
thrilling force through the veins of the earth, the sap through the veins of the 
plants and trees, and the blood through the veins of man. What a thrill of 
delight in spring-time ! What a joy in being and moving ! Men are at work in 
gardens, and in the air there is an odor of the fresh earth. The leaf-buds begin 
to swell and blush. The white blossoms of the cherry hang upon the boughs 
like snow-flakes ; and ere long our next-door neighbor will be completely hidden 
from us by the dense green foliage. The May-flowers open their soft blue eyes. 
Children are let loose in the fields and gardens. They hold buttercups under 
each other's chins, to see if they love butter. And the little girls adorn them- 
selves with chains and curls of dandelions ; pull out the yellow leaves to see, 
if the school-boy loves them, and blow the down from the leafless stalk, to 
find out if their mothers want them at home. And at night so cloudless and so 
still ! Not a voice of living thing, — not a whisper of leaf or waving bough, — 
not a breath of wind, — not a sound upon the earth or in the air! And over- 
head bends the blue sky, dewy and soft, and radiant with innumerable stars 
like the inverted bell of some blue flower, sprinkled with golden dust, and 
breathing fragrance. Or, if the heavens are overcast, it is no wild storm of 
wind and rain, but clouds that melt and fall in showers. One does not wish to 
sleep, but lies awake to hear the pleasant sound of the dropping rain. 

Longfellow. 



Stranger, these gloomy boughs 
Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit, 
His only visitants a straggling sheep, 
The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper; 
And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath 
And juniper and thistle sprinkled o'er, 
Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour 
A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here 
An emblem of his own unfruitful life ; 
And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze 
On the more distant scene — how lovely 'tis 
Thou seest, — and he would gaze till it became 
Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain 

The beauty, still more beauteous. 

Wordsworth. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



157 



THE NATIONAL FLOWER. 

THEY have asked me to vote for a national flower; — 
Now, which will it be, I wonder ! 
To settle the question is out of my power; 
But I'd rather not make a blunder. 

And I love the Mayflower the best, — in May,- 

Smiling up from its snow-drift-cover, 
With its breath that is sweet as a kiss, to say 

That the reign of winter is over. 

And I love the Golden-rod, too, — for its gold ; 

And because through autumn it lingers, 
And offers more wealth than his hands can hold 

To the grasp of the poor man's fingers. 

I should like to vote for them both, if I might ; 

But I do not feel positive whether 
The flowers themselves would be neighborly quite ; — 

Pink and yellow don't go together. 

O yes, but they do ! — in the breezy wild rose, 

The darlingest daughter of summer, 
Whose heart with the sun's yellow gold overflows, 

And whose blushes so well become her. 

Instead of one flower, I will vote for three : 
The Mayflowers know that I mean them ; 

And the Golden-rod surely my choice will be, — 
With the sweet Brier-rose between them. 

You see I'm impartial. I've no way but this : 

My vote, with a rhyme and a reason, 
For the Mayflower, the Wild Rose, and Golden-rod, is ; — 

A blossom for every season ! 
St. Nicholas, September, 1889. LUCY LARCOM. 



APRIL. 



WHEN April, one day, was asked whether 
She could make reliable weather, 
She laughed till she cried, 
And said " Bless you, I've tried, 

But the things will get mixed up together." 
St. Nicholas, May, 1889, JESSIE McDERMOTT. 



158 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



W 



BREATHINGS OF SPRING. 

HAT wak'st thou, Spring ? — sweet voices in the woods, 
And reed-like echoes, that have long been mute ; 
Thou bringest back, to fill the solitudes, 

The lark's clear pipe, the cuckoo's viewless flute, 
Whose tone seems breathing mournfulness or glee, 
Even as our hearts may be. 

And the leaves greet thee, Spring ! — the joyous leaves, 
Whose tremblings gladden many a copse and glade, 

Where each young spray a rosy flush receives, 

When thy south wind hath pierced the whispery shade, 

And happy murmurs, running through the grass, 

Tell that thy footsteps pass. 

And the bright waters — they, too, hear thy call, 

Spring, the awakener ! thou hast burst their sleep ! 

Amidst the hollows of the rocks their fall 
Makes melody, and in the forests deep. 

Where sudden sparkles and blue gleams betray 

Their windings to the day. 

And flowers — the fairy-peopled world of flowers ! 

Thou from the dust hast set that glory free, 
Coloring the cowslip with the sunny hours, 

And penciling the wood-anemone: 
Silent they seem ; yet each to thoughtful eye 
Glows with mute poesy. 

But what awak'st thou in the heart, O Spring ! — 
The human heart, with all its dreams and sighs ? 

Thou that giv'st back so many a buried thing, 
Restorer of forgotten harmonies ! 

Fresh songs and scents break forth where 'er thou art : 

What wak'st thou in the heart ? 

Too much, oh, there, too much ! — we know not well 
Wherefore it should be thus ; yet, roused by thee, 

What fond, strange yearnings, from the soul's deep cell, 
Gush for the faces we no more may see ! 

How are we haunted, in thy wind's low tone, 

By voices that are gone ! 

Looks of familiar love, that never more 

Never on earth, our aching eyes shall meet, 
Past words of welcome to our household door, 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 59 

And vanished smiles, and sounds of parted feet- 
Spring, midst the murmurs of thy flowering trees, 
Why, why revivest thou these ? 

Vain longings for the dead ! — why come they back 

With thy young birds, and leaves, and living blooms? 

O, is it not that from thine earthly track 

Hope to thy world may look beyond the tombs ? 

Yes, gentle Spring; no sorrow dims thine air, 

Breathed by our loved ones there. 

Mrs. Hemans. 



T 1 



THE WONDERFUL TREE. 

•'T^HERE'S a wonderful tree, a wonderful tree, 
The happy children rejoice to see ; 
Spreading its branches year by year, 
It comes from the forest to flourish here. 
And this wonderful tree, with its branches wide, 
Is always blooming at Christmas-tide. 



" Tis not alone in the summer's sheen, 
Its boughs are broad and its leaves are green ; 
It blooms for us when the wild winds blow, 
And earth is white with feathery snow. 
And this wonderful tree, with its branches wide, 
Bears many a gift at the Christmas-tide. 

" For a voice is telling its boughs among 
Of the shepherds' watch and angels' song; 
Of a holy Babe in a manger low, — 
The beautiful story of long ago, — 
When a radiant star threw its beams so wide 
To herald the earliest Christmas-tide. 

" Then spread thy branches, wonderful tree, 
And bring the pleasant thought to me 
Of Him who came from His home above, 
The richest gift of the Father's love, 
To show us how to spread far and wide 
The joys of the holy Christmas-tide." 



Flowers are the sweetest things that God ever made and forgot to put a 
soul into. 

Beecher. 



j 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Written for the "Arbor Day Manual " 

THE TREE OF STATE.* 

DEDICATED TO THE MAPLE. 

EMBLEM Tree of the Empire State ! 
Thy virtues on this festal day 
Cheerfully I commemorate, 

And own allegiance, to thy sway. 
Deep-rooted in thy native soil, 
Field of all my earlier toil, — 
Sepulchre which holds in trust 
For future time my kindred dust; 
Play-ground of my childhood years, 
Cradle of my loves, dreams, fears, — 
The very dust is dear which creeps 
About thy roots, and vigil keeps ; 
And every fiber of thy growth 
Endeared to me since early youth, 
Grows dearer still while dreaming where 
Magnolia blooms fill all the air. 
* * ^ ^ * * 

I see thee now, before the storm king bending, 

As I have seen thee oft and fled from under, 
When lightning flashes scarce begun, scarce ending, 
Their work have told in tones of fiercest thunder; 
And thou wast beautiful and great, 
O, Emblem Tree of the Empire State ! 

I see thee now, well rounded, calm and blending 

Shades and touches by deft nature's brush, 
And o'er the whole the latest sunset lending 

That strange soft something twixt a glow and flush, 
Which holds entranced. E'en now I wait, 
Loved Emblem Tree of the Empire State ! 

And lo ! Behold ! Two happy lovers straying 

Draw near; while sympathetic moon beams stealing 
Athwart their path, their earnestness betraying, 
And all unconsciously their love revealing, 
Are shadowed, with the pair who wait 
'Neath thy dense shade, O Tree of State ! 

E'en merry urchins 'neath thy branches swinging, 

Refresh themselves at thy o'erflowing fountain, 
And praises loud in childish glee are ringing, 

As one by one thy topmost branches mounting, 
Each vies with each, O Tree of State ! 
While echoing- hills reiterate. 



* By a vote of those who participated in the Arbor Day exercises of 1S89, in New York State, the Maple 
was chosen as the State Tree. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



161 



I see them now, thy garnered leaves adorning 

The palace hall and hovel, yea the bier, 
They turn the night of poverty to morning 

And bring to gilded homes a touch of cheer, 
And even death they decorate — 
Thy leaves, O cherished Tree of State ! 

But words are sounding voids when hands are waiting 

To set the royal seal of praise to-day ; 
And show a love enduring, unabating, 

By planting thy dear rootlets by the way. 

Long live the Maple, grand and great ! 
Proud Emblem Tree of the Empire State ! 
St. Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. KuDE. 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 



CHILD AND TREE. 



FOR A LITTLE CHILD S RECITATION. 



I'M like the tiny tree 
The children plant to-day; 
And not to blame you see, 
For making no display. 

To grow we both have room; 

And so we patient wait; 
And some day may become 

An honor to the State. 



The tiny little tree 

Can never move a pace; 
But busy as a bee, 

/ flit from place to place. 

Because that I am free 

To stud}', and to know, 

There's more required of me, 
Than standing still to grow. 



Walerlown, A T . Y. 



I move and bring things near, 

The tree must stand and wait; 

But each one in its sphere 

May grow both good and great. 



E. A. HoLBROOK. 



The robin and the blue-bird, piping loud, 

Filled all the blossoming orchards with their glee ; 
The sparrows chirped as if they still were proud 

Their race in holy writ should mentioned be; 
And hungry crows assembled in a crowd, 

Clamored their piteous prayer incessantly, 
Knowing who hears the ravens' cry, and said, 
" Give us, O Lord, this day our daily bread ! " 

11 Longfellow, 



1 62 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



ELM VERSUS APPLE. 

THE elm, in all the landscape green, 
Is fairest of God's stately trees : 
She is a gracious-mannered queen 

Full of soft bends and courtesies. 

But though her slender shadows play 

Their game of bo-peep on the grass, 
The hot kine pause not on their way, 

But panting to the thick oaks pass. 

And though the robins go, as guests, 

To swing among the elm's soft leaves, 

When they would build their snug round nests 
They choose the rough old apple-trees. 

The apple has no sinuous arms, 

No smooth obeisance in her ways; 
She lacks the elm's compliant charms, 

Yet she commands my better praise. 

•fc sjc %. ^ * &• 

Wide Awake, October, 1886. May Riley Smith. 



BY SUMMER WOODS. 

THE leafy city of the birds 
Is quiet now in every street — 
The little people all, have gone to sleep. 
Up from the river come the herds, 
With dripping mouths and lingering feet ; 
And slowly earthward shades of evening creep. 

The chirr of insects fainter grows ; 

The dusky bat his dungeon leaves, 

And noiseless flits upon his nightly quest. 

The flowers their dewy eyelids close ; 

A lullaby the cricket weaves, 

And nature folds her hands in balmy rest. 

So fades in gloom the summer day. 
Oh ! drearer now each leaf and blade, 
And gentle band of beauty-haloed flowers ! 
For stains of blood they hide away, 
In lonely glens and battle glade, 
While peace and concord smile amid our bowers. 
Hours at Home. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



163 



A CHILD TO A ROSE. 



WHITE Rose, talk to me ! 
I don't know what to do. 
Why do you say no word to me 

Who say so much to you ? 
I'm bringing you a little rain 

And I shall feel so proud 
If, when you feel it in your face, 

You take me for a cloud. 
Here I come so softly 

You cannot hear me walking ; 
If I take you by surprise 

I may catch you talking. 

White Rose, are j r ou tired 

Of staying in one place? 
Do you ever wish to see 

The wild flowers, face to face ? 
Do you know the woodbines, 

And the big brown-crested reeds? 
Do you wonder how they live 

So friendly with the weeds? 



Have you any work to do 

When you 've finished growing ? 
Shall you teach your little buds 

Pretty ways of blowing? 

Do you ever go to sleep ? 

Once I woke by night, 
And looked out of the window: 

And there you stood, moon-white, 
Moon-white in a mist of darkness, — 

With never a word to say ; 
But you seemed to move a little, 

And then I ran away. 

White Rose, do you love me? 

I only wish you'd say. 
I would work hard to please you 

If I but knew the way. 
I think you nearly perfect 

In spite of all your scorns ; 
But, White Rose, if I were you, 

I -wouldn't have those thorns. 



LEGEND OF THE ASPEN. 



Some Canadians have conceived a very superstitious idea of this tree. They say that 
of its wood the cross was made on which our Saviour was nailed, and that since the time 
of the crucifixion, its leaves have not ceased to tremble. — Indian Sketches of P. DeSmet. 



O'ER the forests of Judea 
Gayly earl)'- morning played, 
When some men came armed with axes 
Deep into the forest shade. 

Passed by many a tree majestic — 
Cypress grove and olive wood, 

Till they came wherein the thicket 
Fair and proud the Aspen stood. 

" This will serve, — we choose the Aspen, 
For its stem is strong and high, 

For the cross on which to-morrow 
Must a malefactor die." 

In the air did listening spirits 

Shrink those men to hear and see, 
And with awful voice they whisper: 
"Jesus, 'tis, of Galilee !" 
Hours at Home, 1865. 



The Aspen heard them and she trembled — 
Trembled at that fearful sound — 

As they hewed her down and dragged her 
Slowly from the forest ground. 

On the morrow stood she trembling 
At the awful weight she bore, 

When the sun in midnight blackness 
Darkened on Judea's shore. 

Still, — when not a breeze is stirring, 
When the mist sleeps on the hill, 

And all other trees are moveless, 
Stands she ever trembling still. 

For in hush of noon or midnight 

Still she seems that sight to see, 

Still she seems to hear that whisper; 
"Jesus, 'tis, of Galilee ! " 



164 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A SONG FOR MAY. 



A SONG for May, whose breath is sweet 
With blossoms growing at our feet ; 
Her voice is heard in laughing rills 
That ripple down the sunny hills, 
O happy, happy May. 
The robin in the Cherry tree 
Is blithe as any bird can be ; 
And bubbling from his silver throat, 
His wordless songs of rapture float. 
O happy, happy May. 
Vick's Magazine. 



Above the hills the firmament 
Bends down about us like a tent, 
And we, O, fairy-footed May, 
Are dwellers in your tents, to-day. 

O happy, happy May. 
Our hearts are glad with bird and bee 
For what we feel and what we see ; 
O, would that life and love, we say, 
Might always keep its happy May, 

Its happy, happy May. 

Eben E. Rexford. 



NATURE. 



TO plant, to build, whatever you intend, 
To rear the column, or the arch to bend, 
To swell the terrace, or to sink the grot, 
In all, let Nature never be forgot * * * 
He gains all points who pleasingly con- 
founds, 
Surprises, varies and conceals the bounds, 
Consult the genius of the place in all ; 
That helps the waters or to rise or fall ; 
Or helps th' ambitious hill the heavens to 

scale, 
Or scoops in circling theatres the vale ; 



Calls in the country, catches opening glades; 

Joins willing woods, and varies shades from 
shades ; 

Now breaks, or now directs, th' intending 
lines ; 

Paints as you plant and as you work de- 
signs. 

Still follow sense, of every art the soul ; 

Parts answering parts shall slide into a 
whole, 

Spontaneous beauties all around advance, 

Start e'en from difficulty, strike from chance. 

Pope. 



ROBIN REDBREAST. 



PRETTY Robin Redbreast, 
Let me see inside your nest ; 
Oh ! the eggs, one, two, three — 
Just as sweet as sweet can be. 



I won't touch them ; never fear, 

I won't let my breath come near, 

If I did you'd leave your nest, 
Pretty Robin Redbreast. 

E. A. Mathers. 



If Jove would give the leafy bowers 
A queen for all their world of flowers, 
The rose would be the choice of Jove 
And blush, the queen of every grove, 
Gem, the vest of earth adorning, 
Eye of gardens, light of lawns, 



Nursling of soft summer dawns ; 
Love's own earliest sigh it breathes, 
Beauty's brow with lustre wreathes, 
And to young Zephyr's warm caresses, 
Spreads abroad its verdant tresses. 

CLODIA- 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



165 



THE SPRING TIME. 



FOR A CLASS RECITATION. 



All : 

HARK ! it is the springtime, 
How happy should we be, 
After winter's cold blast 

The merry spring to see. 

First Girl : 
All the birds are happy, 

They seem to love to sing; 
They must be tired of winter, 

And glad to see the spring. 

Second Girl: 

And see ! the little flow'rs 

Pop up their tiny heads ; 
Buttercups and daisies 

Spring from their cosy beds. 



Third Girl : 

Violets are blooming, 

And honeysuckles too ; 
So the bees are happy, 
As well as all of you. 

Fourth Girl : 
Soon, the grand old forest, 

That has so long been bare, 
Will send forth green branches 
Out in the open air. 

All : 
Surely God does love us 

To send us all these things, 
And we, with our teacher, 

Give thanks to Him in spring. 
Lily Rutherford. 



SPRING. 



IN the snowing and the blowing, 
In the cruel sleet, 
Little flowers begin their growing, 

Far beneath our feet. 
Softly taps the spring, and cheerly, 

" Darlings are you here ? " 
Till the answer, " We are nearly, 
Nearly ready, dear." 



." Where is winter, with his snowing? 

Tell us spring," they say. 

Then she answers, " He is going, 

Going on his way. 
Poor old winter does not love you ; 

But his time is past; 
Soon my birds shall sing, above you, 
Set you free at last." 

Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 



LITTLE BIRDIE. 



FOR A LITTLE ONE. 



DEAR little birdie, 
Up in a tree, 
Sing a sweet song of 
Spring-time to me. 

Sing of the sunshine, 
Sing of the showers, 

Sing of the dewdrops, 
Sing of the flowers. 



Then when winter comes 
Back with its snow, 

And the cold winds 

Through the trees blow 

If you, dear birdie, will 
Back to me come, 

I'll see that you never 

Shall want for a crumb. 



1 66 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



ROBIN REDBREAST'S SECRET. 



I'M a little Robin Redbreast ; 
My nest is in a tree ; 
If you look up in yonder elm, 

My pleasant home you'll see. 
We made it very soft and nice, — 

My pretty mate and I, — 
And all the time we worked at it 
We sang most merrily. 



I have a secret I would like 

The little girls to know ; 
But I won't tell a single boy — 

The}' rob the poor birds so ! 
We have four pretty little eggs; 

We watch them with great care , 
Full twenty nests are in this wood — 

Don't tell the boys they're there ' 



The green leaves shade our lovely home 

From the hot, scorching sun ; 
So man)' birds live in the tree, 

We do not want for fun. 
The light breeze gently rocks our nest, 

And hushes us to sleep ; 
We're up betimes to sing our song, 

And the first daylight greet. 



Joe Thomson robbed my nest last year. 

And year before, — Tom Brown; 
I'll tell it loud as I can sing 

To every one in town. 
Swallow and sparrow, lark and thrush, 

Will tell you just the same ; 
To make us all so sorrowful, 

Is just a wicked shame. 



O, did you hear the concert 

This morning from our tree? 
We give it every morning 

Just as the clock strikes three. 
We praise our great Creator, 

Whose hoi)' love we share : 
Dear children, learn to praise Him, too. 

For all His tender care. 



JOY OF SPRING. 

FOR lo ! no sooner has the cold withdrawn, 
Than the bright elm is tufted on the lawn ; 
The merry sap has run up in the bowers, 
And burst the windows of the buds in flowers ; 
With song the bosoms of the birds run o'er, 
The cuckoo calls, the swallow 's at the door, 
And apple-trees at noon, with bees alive, 
Burn with the golden chorus of the hive. 
Now all these sweets, these sounds, this vernal blaze, 
Is but one joy, expressed a thousand ways : 
And honey from the flowers, and song from birds, 
Are from the poet's pen his overflowing words. 

Leigh Hunt. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 6 7 



THE BIRDS AND THE CHILDREN. 

A LITTLE brown birdie sat up in a tree 
And hid his head under his wing. 
He was just as sad as a birdie could be, 
And not one sweet song did he sing. 

" Oh, Birdie, come tell us why you are so sad, 
We, children, want to hear you sing. 
Have you done something ever and ever so bad, 
That you hide your head under your wing? 

" Did you snatch something nice from your sister or brother, 
Like some naughty children, we know? 
Did you fly far away, when told by your mother 
That but a short way you could go ? " 

The Birdie from under his wing took his head, 
And looked at the children below. 
" I have not been naughty at all," then he said, 
" I'll tell you why I'm mourning so. 

''A bright, handsome bluejay just flew past this tree, 
And laughed at my rusty, brown coat ; 
And if I'm so homely as he said, you see, 
There's no use in singing a note. 

" For no one will care for a homely bird's song, 
And I'd better not sing any more." 
Then all the children said, "Birdie, you're wrong, 
We've been told by wise folks o'er and o'er, 

"That fine feathers only don't make a fine bird. 
Jays cannot sing sweetly like you. 
They look well who do well, we often have heard, 
And, Birdie, we're sure it is true. 

" So sing to us now, — sing your very best song ! 
We'll stay here and listen to you." 
Then the bird for the children sang sweetly and long, — 
Sang all the nice songs that he knew. 

E. T. Sullivan. 



THE OAK. 



T 



HE tall oak, towering to the skies, O'ervvhelmed at length upon the plain, 

The fury of the wind defies, It puts forth wings and sweeps the main 

From age to age in virtue strong, The self-same foe undaunted braves, 

Inured to stand and suffer wrong. And fights the wind upon the waves. 

Iames Montgomery. 



! 68 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE PINE TREE ACADEMY. 

ALL the birdies went to school, 
In a pine tree, dark and cool, 
At its foot a brook was flowing, 
The teacher was a crow, 
And what he did not know, 
You may be sure was not worth knowing. 

Their satchels are hanging up tidy and neat, 

They smooth down their feathers and wipe off their feet, 

While the wind through the tree-tops goes creeping. 

" Speak up loud " says the crow, 

" I can't hear, as you know, 
While the branches are swaying and creaking." 

They are taught the very best way to fly, 
To catch the insect that goes buzzing by; 
How to cock the head when beginning to sing. 

" I've a cold," says the crow, 

" Or else 1 would show, 
How the nightingale does when she makes the woods ring." 

The books are made of maple leaves, 
For paper, bark from white-birch trees, 
And for pencil each uses a stick. 

" When you write," says the crow, 

" Be both careful and slow, 
Make your letters look graceful, not thick." 

Every birdie builds a nest, 

In the place each thinks the best, 

While the teacher gives good sound advice. 

"All the stocks," says the crow, 

"You must lay in a row 
Before using one, look at it twice." 

All at once, with a cold blast 

The rain comes falling, thick and fast, 

While the old pine tree groans in the gale. 

" School is closed," says the crow, 

" You must all quickly go, 
But to-morrow, come back without fail." 

V. E. SCHARFF. 







ARBOR DA V MANUAL. \ 69 



THE SEASONS. 

I THE Spring! the beautiful Spring! 

i With its buds and blossoms and flowers, 



With bluebirds and robins that sing their sweet songs, 
And the soft, mild, April showers. 

I like best the Summer, the long June days, 

To sit in the deep cool shade, 
To see the grain ripening, the flowers turn to fruit, 

On each hillside, valley and glade. 

Girls always rave of flowers and bowers, 

And of the beauties of Spring, 
But give me the Autumn, the glorious fall, 

And all the pleasures it brings ; 
With corn-stalk fiddles, fruits and nuts, 
And a hunt in the woods, sere and brown ; 

With pumpkins for jack-lights, 

To frighten on dark nights, 
And shaking the ripe apples down. 

No Spring, no Summer, no Autumn for me, 

But Winter, the grandest of all, 
When Jack-frost and Santa Claus travel around, 

And kindly gives each a call. 
Coasting and skating in the keen, cold air, 
Is the very best think to banish care. 

Spring and Summer, Winter and Fall, 
The best of the seasons is, them all. 
We would tire of Spring, if no Summer came. 
We would tire of Summer if it came to remain. 
We would tire of Autumn if it came to stay. 
We would tire of Winter e'er it passed away. 
The 5 r ear is complete, God made it so, 
With bud and blossom, fruit and snow. 

Katie Douglas Walster. 



OUR DUTY HERE. 

WHAT is our duty here? To tend And so to live, that, when the sun 

From good to better, — thence to best; Of our existence sinks in night, 

Grateful to drink life's cup, — then bend Memorials sweet of mercies done 

Unmurmuring to our bed of rest; May shrine our names in memory's light; 

To pluck the flowers that round us blow, And the blest seeds we scattered bloom 

Scattering our fragrance as we go. A hundred-fold in days to come. 

Sir J. Bowring. 



170 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



M 



AGE OF TREES. 

AN counts his life by years ; the oak, by centuries. At one hundred years 
of age the tree is but a sapling ; at five hundred it is mature and strong; 
at six hundred the gigantic king of the greenwood begins to feel the touch of 
time : but the decline is as slow as the growth was, and the sturdy old tree rears 
its proud head and reckoned centuries of old age just as it reckoned centuries 
of youth. 

It has been said that the patriarchs of the forest laugh at history. Is it not 
true ? Perhaps, when the balmy zephyrs stir the trees, the leaves whisper 
strange stories to one another. The oaks and the pines, and their brethren of 
the wood, have seen so many suns rise and set, so many seasons come and go, 
and so many generations pass into silence, that we may well wonder what the 
" story of the trees " would be to us if they had tongues to tell it, or we ears fine 
enough to understand. 

"The king of white-oak trees," says a letter-writer in this good year 1883, " has 
been chopped down and taken to the saw-mill. It was five hundred twenty- 
five years old, and made six twelve-foot logs, the first one being six feet in 
diameter and weighing seven tons." What a giant that Ohio oak tree must 
have been, and what changes in this land of ours it must have witnessed ! It 
looked upon the forest when the red man ruled there alone; it was more than 
a century old when Columbus landed in the new world; and to that good age 
it added nearly four centuries before the axe of the woodman laid it low. 

Yet, venerable as this " king of the white-oak trees " was, it was but an in- 
fant, compared with other monarchs of the western solitudes. One California 
pine, cut down about 1855, was, according to very good authority, eleven hundred 
twenty years old ; and many of its neighbors in its native grove are no less 
ancient than it was. Who shall presume, then, to fix the age of the hoary trees 
that still rear their stalwart frames in the unexplored depths of the American 
wilderness ? 

In England there are still in existence many trees that serve to link the far- 
off past with the living present. Some of them were witnesses of the fierce 
struggles between Norman and Saxon when William the Conqueror planted 
his standard — "the three-bannered lions of Normandy old " — upon English 
soil. Then there is the King's Oak, at Windsor, which, tradition informs us, 
was a great favorite with William when that bold Norman first inclosed the 
forest for a royal hunting-ground. 

The Conquerer loved to sit in the shade of the lofty, spreading tree and muse 
— upon what? Who knows what fancies filled his brain, what feelings stirred 
his proud spirit, what memories, what regrets, thrilled his heart, as he sat there 
in the solitude ? Over eight hundred years have rolled away since the Norman 
usurper fought the sturdy Saxon, and, for conquerer as for conquered, life and 
its ambitions and its pangs ended long ago ; but the mighty oak, whose green- 
ness and beauty were a delight to the Conqueror, still stands in Windsor forest. 
Eight centuries ago its royal master saw it a " goodly tree." How old is it 
now ? 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



171 



Older even than this are the oaks near Croydon, nine miles south of London, 
If the botanist may judge by the usual evidences of age, these trees saw the 
glitter of the Roman spears as the legions of the Empire wound their way 
through the forest-paths or in the green open spaces in the woodland. Now, 
the Roman legions left Britain fourteen centuries ago, having been summoned 
home to Rome because the Empire was in danger, — in fact, was hastening to 
its fall. Have fourteen centuries spared these oaks at Croydon ? 

There is a famous yew that must not go without notice in our record of 
ancient trees. This venerable tree stands in its native field, ever green and 
enduring, as if the years had forgotten it. Yet it was two centuries old when, 
in the adjacent meadow, King John signed Magna Charta. If we bear in mind 
that in 121 5 the stout English barons compelled their wicked king to sign the 
Great Charter, protecting the rights of his subjects, we may conclude that this 
patriarch yew is at least eight hundred fifty years old. 

The Parliament Oak — -so called because it is said that Edward I, who ruled 
England from 1272 to 1307, once held a parliament under its branches — is be- 
lieved to be fifteen hundred years old. If Fine-Ear of the fairy tale could come 
and translate for us the whispers of these ancient English trees, and tell us ever 
so little of what the stately monarchs of the wood have seen, what new histories 
might be written, what old chronicles reversed! 

On the mountains of Lebanon a few of the cedars famous in sacred and in 
profane history yet remain. One of these relics of the past has been estimated 
to be three thousand five hundred years old. The patriarchs of the English 
forests cannot, then, so far as age is considered, claim equal rank with the 
"cedars of Lebanon." But the baobab, or "monkey-bread," of Senegal must 
take the first rank among long-lived trees. Even the " goodly trees " of Lebanon 
must, if ordinary proofs can be trusted, yield the palm to their African rival. 

An eminent French botanist of the eighteenth century, whose discoveries in 
natural history are of great interest to the world of science, lived some years in 
Senegal, and had ample opportunity to observe and study the wonderful baobab- 
He saw several trees of this species growing, and from the most careful calcula- 
tions he formed his opinion as to the age of some of these African wonders. 
One baobab, which even in its decay measured one hundred and nine feet in 
circumference, he believed to be more than five thousand years old. Truly, 
the patriarchs of the forest laugh at history. 



THE HEMLOCK TREE. 

HEMLOCK tree ! O hemlock tree ! how faithful are thy branches ! 
Green not alone in summer time 
But in the winter's frost and rime ! 
O hemlock tree ! O hemlock tree ! how faithful are thy branches. 

From the German. Longfellow. 



172 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



MAY TO APRIL. 



WITHOUT your showers, 
I breed no flowers, 
Each field a barren waste appears; 
If you don't weep, 
My blossoms sleep, 
They take such pleasure in your tears. 



For April dead 

My shade I spread, 
To her I owe my dress so gay; 

Of daughters three 

It falls on me 
To close our triumphs on one day. 



As your decay 

Made room for May, 
So I must part with all that's mine, 

My balmy breeze, 

My blooming trees, 
To torrid suns their sweets resign. 



Thus to repose 

All nature goes; 
Month after month must find its doom, 

Time on the wing, 

Ma} r ends the spring, 
And summer frolics o'er her tomb. 

Philip Freneau. 



THE FLOWER. 



ONCE in a golden hour 
I cast to earth a seed. 
Up there came a flower, 

The people said a weed. 



Sow'd it far and wide 

By every town and tower, 
Till all the people cried, 

" Splendid is the flower." 



To and fro they went 

Thro' my garden-bower, 

And muttering discontent, 

Cursed me and mv flower. 



Read my little fable; 

He that runs may read, 
Most can raise the flowers now, 

For all have got the seed. 



Then it grew so tall 

It wore a crown of light, 
But thieves from o'er the wall 

Stole the seed by night. 



And some are pretty enough, 
And some are poor, indeed; 

And now again the people 
Call it but a weed. 

Tennyson. 



BIRD TRADES. 



THE swallow is a mason, 
And underneath the eaves 
He builds a nest and plasters it 
With mud and hay and leaves. 



The woodpecker is hard at work — 

A carpenter is he — 
And )'ou may hear him hammering 

His nest high up a tree. 



Of all the weavers that I know, 
The oriole is the best ; 

High on the branches of the tree 
She hangs her cosy nest. 



Some little birds are miners; 

Some build upon the ground; 
And busy little tailors too, 

Among the birds are found. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. \ 73- 



THE LEAVES. 

LONG ago, when violets were blooming, 
And the sunbeams said, " Tis merry May," 
We came, young leaves, to these bowers 

O ! gaily passed the happy hours away. 
Singing, dancing, waving, glancing, 

Now whisp'ring to the birds sweet things we know, 
Now leaning from low-bending branches 
To kiss the tender grasses just below. 

When the storm cloud came, and the daisies 

Lowly bent their dainty heads for fear, 
We prayed while we sheltered the wild birds, 

*' O ! angry cloud, pray bring no danger here." 
Now we listen, never moving, 

E'en the grasses' whispering dies away; 
Now the thunder crashes above us 

O ! angry cloud, is this your answer, say ? 

Hurrah ! 'tis only pattering raindrops, 

Here and there we nod to greet them from our tree. 
They are coming now by the millions, 

Ha ! ha ! we'll frolic with them merrily. 
Dancing, dancing, waving, glancing, 

O ! friendly cloud, we thank you for the rain ; 
See we're each one covered with jewels, 

Hurrah ! here is the sunshine back again. 

Summer joys, thou art gone ; with the flowers 

That blossomed in our shadows, frail and fair; 
And we sigh, for our bright hues are fading, 

While autumn's mournful music fills the air. 
Now we're falling, gently falling, 

Down among the grasses sere and brown, 
We shall cover the graves of the flowers 

While the paling sun in pity glances down. 



There scattered oft, the earliest of the year 

By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; 

The redbreast loves to build and warble there, 
And little footsteps lightly print the ground. 

Gray's Elegy. 

This verse was struck out in later editions of the poem by the author, sacri- 
ficing a beautiful thought to the symmetry of the poem. 



i/4 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS. 



FOR A CLASS EXERCISE. 



Chorus: 

WE are the little flowers, 
Coming with the spring; 
If you listen closely 

Sometimes you'll hear us sing. 

The Honeysuckle (Red): 
I am the honeysuckle, 

With my drooping head ; 
And early in the spring time 

I don my dress of red. 
I grow in quiet woodlands, 

Beneath some budding tree ; 
So when you take a ramble 

Just look for me. 



Chorus : 
We are the little flowers, etc. 

The Forget-me-not (Blue) : 
When God made all the flowers, 

He gave each one a name, 
And, when the others all had gone, 

A little blue one came. 
And said in trembling whisper, 

" My name has been forgot." 
Then the good Father called her, 

" Forget-me-not." 

Chorus: 
We are the little flowers, etc, 



Chorus : 
We are the little flowers, etc. 

The Dandelion (Yellow) : 
I am the dandelion, 

Yellow as you see, 
And when the children see me 

They shout for glee. 
I grow by every wayside, 

And when I've had my day- 
I spread my wings so silvery 

And fly away. 



The Fern (Green) : 
A fern the people call me, 

I'm always clothed in green, 
I live in every forest ; 

You've seen me oft, I ween. 
Sometimes I leave the shadow 

To grow beside the way. 
You'll see me as you pass 

Some nice fine day. 

Chorus : 
We are the little flowers, etc. 



Chorus: 
We are the little flowers, etc. 

The Nasturtium (Orange): 
I am the gay nasturtium, 

I bloom in gardens fine, 
Among the grander flowers 

My slender stalk I twine. 
Bright orange is my color — 

The eyes of all to please — 
I have a tube of honey 

For all the bees. 



The Violet (Purple) : 
I am the little violet ; 

In my purple dress, 
I hide myself so safely, 

That you'd never guess 
There was a flower so near you 

Nestling at your feet; 
And that's why I send you 

My fragrance sweet. 

Chorus : 
We are the little flowers, etc. 

Lucy Wheelock. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



175 



THE CUNNING OLD CROW. 

ON the limb of an oak sat a cunning old crow, 
And chatted away with glee, 
As he saw the old farmer go out to sow, 
And he cried, " It's all for me ! 

"Look, look, how he scatters his seeds around ; 
How wonderfully kind to the poor ! 
If he'd empty it down in a pile on the ground, 
I could find it much better, I'm sure ! 

" I've learned all the tricks of this wonderful man, 
Who has such regard for the crow 
That he lays out his grounds in a regular plan, 
And covers his corn in a row. 

" He must have a very great fancy for me ; 
He tries to entrap me enough, 
But I measure his distance as well as he, 
And when he comes near, I'm off." 



THE SEASONS. 

WHAT does it mean when the blue bird flies 
Away o'er the hills, singing sweet and clear? 
When violets peep through the blades of grass ? 
These are the signs that Spring time is here. 

What does it mean when the plums are ripe ? 

And butterflies flit and honey bees hum ? 
When cattle stand under the shady trees ? 

These are the signs that Summer is here. 

What does it mean when the crickets chirp, 

And off to the south-land the wild geese steer? 

When apples are falling and nuts are brown ? 
These are the signs that Autumn is here. 

What does it mean when the days are short ? 

When leaves are all gone, and the brooks are dumb ? 
When meadows are white with the drifting snow? 

These are the signs that Winter has come. 

M. E. N. Hatheway. 



I 76 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



HYMN TO THE FLOWERS. 

'TVTEATH cloister'd bough each floral bell that swingeth 
W And tolls its perfume on the passing air, 
Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth 
A call to prayer. 

Not to those domes where crumbling arch and column 

Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, 
But to that fane most catholic and solemn, 

Which God hath planned ; 

To that cathedral boundless as our wonder, 

Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply; 

Its choir, the wind and waves ; its organ, thunder; 
Its dome, the sky. 

There, as in solitude and shade, I wander 

Through the lone aisles, or stretched upon the sod, 

Awed by the silence, reverently ponder 
The ways of God. 

Your voiceless lips, Q flowers ! are living preachers ; 

Each cup a pulpit, and each leaf a book ; 
Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers, 

In loneliest nook. 

Horace Smith. 



THE TREE. 



THE tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown. 
" Shall I take them away? " said the frost sweeping down. 
" No ; leave them alone 
Till the blossoms have grown," 
Prayed the tree, while he trembled from rootlet to crown. 

The tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds sung. 
' Shall I take them away ? " said the wind as he swung. 
'' No ; leave them alone 
Till the berries have grown," 
Said the tree, while his leaflets quivering hung. 

The tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow. 
Said the child, "May I gather thy berries now?" 
" Yes; all thou canst see ; 
Take them ; all are for thee," 
Said the tree, while he bent down his laden boughs low. 

BjORNSTJERNE BjORNSON. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



177 



NOW IS THE TIME. 



THE bud will soon become a flower, 
The flower become a seed ; 
Then seize, O youth ! the present hour. 
Of that thou hast most need. 



The sun and rain will ripen fast 
Each seed that thou hast sown- 

And every act and word at last 
By its own fruit be known. 



Do thy best always — do it now — 
For, in the present time. 

As in the furrows of a plow 

Fall seeds of good or crime. 



And soon the harvest of thy toil 
Rejoicing, thou shalt reap ; 

Or o'er thy wild, neglected soil 
Go forth in shame to weep. 



SPRING. 



THE alder by the river 
Shakes out her powdery curls; 
The willow buds in silver 
For little boys and girls. 



And buttercups are coming, 
And scarlet columbine ; 

And in the sunn}' meadows 
The dandelions shine. 



The little birds fly over, 

And, oh, how sweet they sing ! 
To tell the happy children 

That once again 'tis spring. 



And just as man)' daisies 

As their soft hands can hold. 
The little ones may gather, 

All fair in white and gold. 



The gay green grass comes creeping 
So soft beneath their feet ; 

The frogs begin to ripple 

A music clear and sweet. 



Here blows the warm red clover, 
There peeps the violet blue; 

O happy little children ! 

God made them all for you. 
Celia Thaxter. 



GOOD-BY, WINTER ! 

THE meadow brooks are full, and busy Yes, hurry up, old Winter, hurry ! 
Getting Winter off to sea ; Sometime, we hope, you'll come again; 

His trunks of ice, all packed and ready, But here is Spring, in such a flurry, 
Are standing under every tree. Keeping back her stores of rain. 



His overcoats, well aired and shaken, Well, he's off ! The brooks have started ! 

Are dangling from each dripping bough ; Now the birds can come and sing, 

For he has stayed till overtaken, So welcome to the happy-hearted, 

And Spring is right upon him now ! Laughing, budding, genial Spring. 

ia C. S. Stone. 



i 7 8 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



" A SOUL IN GRASS AND FLOWERS." 

AND what is so rare as a day in June ? 
Then, if ever, come perfect days; 
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, 
And over it softly her warm ear lays : 

Whether we look, or whether we listen, 
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; 
Every clod feels a stir of might. 

And instinct within it that reaches and towers, 
And grasping blindly above it for light, 

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; 

The flush of life may well be seen 

Thrilling back over hills and valleys; 
The cowslip startles in meadows green, 

The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, 
And there's never a leaf or a blade too mean 

To be some happy creature's palace ; 

* * * * * * 

Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, 

We are happy now because God so wills it ; 

No matter how barren the past may have been, 

'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green ; 

We sit in the warm shade and feel right well 

How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell ; 

We may shut our eyes but we cannot help knowing 

That skies are clear and grass is growing ; 

The breeze comes whispering in our ear, 

That dandelions are blossoming near, 

That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing, 

That the river is bluer than the sky, 

That the robin is plastering his house hard by ; 

And if the breeze kept the good news back, 

For other couriers we should not lack. 

****** 

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how ; 

Every thing is happy now, 

Every thing is upward striving ; 

'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true 

As for grass to be green, or skies to be blue, — 

'Tis the natural way of living. 
****** 

Lowell's Vision of Sir Launfal. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



179 



THE LODGE. 



IT was a lodge of ample size, 
But strange of structure and device ; 
Of such materials as around 
The workman's hand had readiest found. 
Lopped off their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 
And by the hatchet rudely squared. 
To give the walls their destined height, 
The sturdy oak and ash unite ; 
While moss and clay and leaves combined 
To fence each crevice from the wind. 
The lighter pine trees overhead 
Their slender length for rafters spread, 
And withered heath and rushes dry 
Supplied a russet canopy. 

Due westward, fronting to the green, 

A rural portico was seen, 

Aloft on native pillars borne, 

Of mountain fir with bark unshorn, 

Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 

The ivy and Idaean vine, 

The clematis, the favored flower 

Which boasts the name of virgin bower, 

And every hardy plant could bear 

Lock Katrine's keen and searching air. 

Scott's Lady of the Lake — The Chase. 



A FEW OLD PROVERBS. 

IF the Oak is out before the Ash, 
1 'Twill be a summer of wet and splash ; 
But if the Ash is out before the Oak, 
'Twill be a summer of fire and smoke.' 

u When the Hawthorn bloom too early shows, 
We shall have still many snows." 

"When the Oak puts on his goslings grey 
Tis time to sow barley night or day." 

''When Elm leaves are big as a shilling, 
Plant kidney beans if you are willing; 
When Elm leaves are as big as a penny, 
You must plant beans if you wish to have any." 



i8o 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



OLD-FASHIONED FLOWERS. 



WHERE are the sweet old-fashioned posies, 
Quaint in form and bright in hue, 
Such as grandma gave her lovers, 

When she walked the garden through ? 

Lavender, with spikes of azure, 

Pointing to the dome on high, 
Telling thus whence came its color, 

Thanking with its breath the sky. 

Four-o'clock, with heart unfolding, 
When the loving sun had gone, 

Streak and stain of running crimson, 
Like the light of early dawn. 

Regal lilies, many petaled, 

Like the curling drifts of snow, 

With their crown of golden antlers 
Poised on malachite below. 



Morning-glories, tints of purple 

Stretched on tints of creamy white, 

Folding up their satin curtains 

Inward through the dewy night. 

Marigold, with coat of velvet, 

Streaked with gold and yellow lace, 

With its love for summer sunlight 
Written on its honest face. 

Dainty pink, with feathered petals, 

Tinted, curled and deeply frayed, 

With its calyx heart half broken, 

On its leaves uplifted laid. 
* * * * * 

Will the modern florist's triumph 
Look so fair or smell so sweet, 

As those dear old-fashioned posies, 

Blooming round our grandma's feet? 
Ethel Lynn. 



A MERRY little maiden 
In the merry month of May, 
Came tripping o'er the meadow 
As she sang this merry lay: 

" I'm a merry little maiden, 

My heart is light and gay, 
And I love the sunny weather 
In the merry month of May. 



A MAY SONG. 

FOR A LITTLE ONE. 

" I love the little birdies 

That sport along my way, 



And sing their sweet and merry songs 
In the merry month of May. 

I love my little sisters 

And my brothers every da)-; 
But I seem to love them better 

In the merry month of Ma)'." 



MERRY SPRING. 



MERRY spring, 
Will you brin^ 



Back the little birds to sing? 

I am sad; 

Make me glad, 
Gentle, merry, laughing spring. 

Mother said, 
" They're not dead 

Only sleeping in their bed; 
When spring rain 
Comes again, 

Each one lifts its tiny head.' 



Winter's snow 

Had to go 
From the hills and vales below; 

Then the showers 

Made the flowers 
Over all the hillsides grow. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 8 1 



SPRING IS COMING. 

LO ! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; 
The flowers appear upon the earth ; 
The time of the singing of birds is come, 
And the voice of the turtle is heard in the land. 

Song of Solomon. 
Spring is coming ! Spring is coming ! 
Birds are chirping, insects humming; 
Flowers are peeping from their sleeping; 
Streams, escaped from winter's keeping, 
In delighted freedom rushing, 
Dance along in music gushing. • 

The pleasant spring is here again; 

Its voice is in the trees ; 
It smiles from every sunny glen, 

It whispers in the breeze. 

All is beauty, all is mirth, 

All is glory on the earth. 

Shout we then, with nature's voice, 

Welcome, spring ! rejoice, rejoice ! 







AUTUMN LEAVES. 

THOU who bearest on thy thoughtful face 

The wearied calm that follows after grief, 

See how the autumn guides each loosened leaf 
To sure repose in its own sheltered place. 
Ah, not forever whirl they in the race 

Of wild forlornness round the gathered sheaf, 

Or hurrying onward, in a rapture brief, 
Spin o'er the moorlands into trackless space ! 
Some hollow captures each ; some sheltering wall 

Arrests the wanderer on its aimless way ; 
The autumn's pensive beauty needs them all, 

And winter finds them warm, though sere and gray, 
They nurse young blossoms for the spring's sweet call, 

And shield new leaflets for the burst of May. 
Century, 1888. Thomas W. Higginson. 



'Tis education forms the common mind ; 

Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. 

Pope. 



182 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A FLOCK OF BIRDS. 

FOR A CLASS OF LITTLE ONES. 
( The pupils who recite should wear appropriate colors.) 
First Pupil : 

f AM a bluebird ; on branches bare 



1 I love to sway like a blossom fair, 

And sing to people tired of snow • 

The prettiest songs of spring-time I know. 

Second Pupil: 

I am a robin "To wortle, tu whit ! " 

Do I mind the cold weather? no not a bit. 

Gayly I'll carol and loudly shout 

Till I coax the leaves and the blossoms out. 

Third Pupil (yellow bird) : 

My color is like the buttercups; 
I love to dance where the wild bee sups, 
I know I've not much of a voice to sing 
But I carry a sunbeam on either wing. 

Fourth Pupil : 

I'm a jolly old crow, I'd have you know, 

I've sung ever since I was born; 
And as for farming, I can beat 

The smartest at hoeing the corn ; 
You don't think much of my music? 

That's as much as some people know. 
What sound is there in this noisy world 

So sweet as the song of a crow ? 

Fifth Pupil : 

I'm the oriole ; see how gaily I'm dressed, 
For me the blossoming orchard is best. 
Oh May is sweet, and I am sweet, 
And the apple blossoms here at my feet. 

Sixth "Pupil : 

I'm brisk little Robert of Lincoln ! 

My heart is so full and so gay 
That I sing as fast as ever I can, 

In the meadow-lands, all day. 
I love the tall lithe grasses 

And the daisies, — the dear little thinsrs 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



They pay the best attention 

To all a birdie sings. 
Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, I'm glad, bob-o-link! 

The brook says I'm pretty, 
Now what do you think ? 

Three or more Pupils : 

We're the cat birds and whip-poor-wills, but we'll not tell 
The secrets we've learned in the shaded dell. 

All (singing or reciting) : 

Come out, boys and girls, and we'll sing you a song; 
Come early; we sing in the morning 
When the spirits of sunrise with colors rare 
Are sky and hilltops adorning. 

Annie Chase. 



EFFECTS OF SPRING. 

THE great sun, 
Scattering the clouds with a resistless smile, 
Came forth to do thee homage ; a sweet hymn 
Was by the low winds chanted in the sky; 
And when thy feet descended on the earth, 
Scarce could they move amid the clustering flowers 
By nature strewn o'er valley, hill and field, 
To hail her blessed deliverer ! Ye fair trees, 
How are ye changed, and changing while I gaze ! 
It seems as if some gleam of verdant light 
Fell on you from a rainbow ; but it lives 
Amid your tendrils, brightening every hour 
Into a deeper radiance. Ye sweet birds, 
Were you asleep through all the wintry hours, 
Beneath the waters, or in mossy caves? 
Yet are ye not, 

Sporting in tree and air, more beautiful 
Than the young lambs, that, from the valley side, 
Send a soft bleating like an infant's voice, 
Half happy, half afraid ! O blessed things ! 
At sight of this your perfect innocence, 
The sterner thoughts of manhood melt away 
Into a mood as mild as woman's dreams. 



Wilson. 



He that goes barefoot must not plant thorns." 



1 84 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL. 



\ LL things bright and beautiful 
l\ All creatures great and small, 
All things wise and wonderful, — 
The Lord God made them all. 

Each little flower that opens, 
Each little bird that sings. 

He made their glowing colors, 
He made their tiny wings. 



The purple-headed mountain, 
The river, running by, 

The morning, and the sunset 
That lighteth up the sky. 

The tall trees in the green wood, 
The pleasant summer sun, 

The ripe fruits in the garden, — 
He made them, every one. 



He gave us eyes to see them, 
And lips that we might tell 

How great is God Almighty, 

Who hath made all things well. 



C. F. Alexander. 



SING A SONG TO ME. 



FOR FOUR LITTLE PUPILS. 



LITTLE robin in the tree 
Sing a song to me. 
Sing about the roses 

On the garden wall, 
Sing about the birdies 
On the tree-top tall. 

Little lark up in the sky 
Sing a song to me. 

Sing about the cloud-land, 
Far off in the sky; 

When you go there calling, 
Dd your children cry? 



Tiny tomtit in the hedge, 
Sing a song to me. 

Sing about the mountain, 
Sing about the sea, 

Sing about the steamboats — 
Is there one for me ? 

Sooty blackbird in the field, 
Sing a song to me. 

Sing about the farmer, 

Planting corn and beans, 

Sing about the harvest — 

I know what that means. 



SPRING SONG. 



HARK, the robins sweetly sing, 
List, and hear the bluebirds ring, 
Little May-flowers, "swinging low, 
Your pale faces to and fro, 
Whispering softly, " Come and see, 
We the children's friend will be. 
Close beside the sheltering grass, 
Stoop and pluck us as ye pass." 



White and cold the winter's snow, 
Loud and rough north winds did blow, 
But beneath our blanket white, 
Slept we through the wintry night. 
Till we heard the robins sing, 
Whispered we, " It is the spring," 
And we op'ed our sleepy eyes, 
For the children's glad surprise. 

Jessie Norton. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



1*5 



VOICES OF THE NIGHT. 

PLEASANT it was, when woods were green, 
And winds were soft and low, 
To lie amid some sylvan scene, 
Where, the long drooping boughs between, 
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen 
Alternate come and go. 

Or where the denser grove receives 

No sunlight from above, 
But the dark foliage interweaves 
In one unbroken roof of leaves, 
Underneath whose sloping eaves 

The shadows hardly move. 

Beneath some patriarchal tree 

I lay upon the ground : 
His hoary arms uplifted be, 
And all the broad leaves over me 
Clapped their little hands in glee, 

With one continuous sound. 

^; ■%. %. ;fc %, 

The green trees whispered low and mild 

It was a sound of joy ! 
They were m)' playmates when a child, 
And rocked me in their arms so wild ! 
Still they looked at me and smiled, 

As if I were a boy ; 

And ever whispered, mild and low, 
" Come, be a child once more ! " 
And waved their long arms to and fro, 
And beckoned solemnly and slow ; 
O, I could not choose but go 
Into the woodland's hoar, — 

Into the'blithe and breathing air 

Into the solemn wood, 
Solemn and silent everywhere ! 
Nature with folded hands seemed there, 
Kneeling at her evening prayer ! 
Like one in pra)^er I stood. 

Before me rose an avenue 

Of tail and sombrous pines ; 
Abroad their fan-like branches grew, 
And, where the sunshine darted through, 
Spread a vapor soft and blue, 

In long and sloping lines. 



j g5 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

And, falling on my weary brain, 

Like a fast-falling shower, 

The dreams of youth came back again, 

Low lisoings of the summer rain, 

Dropping on the ripened grain 

As once upon the flower. 

* * * * * 

Longfellow. 



MAY. 

HAIL May ! with fair queen and May-pole, 
Your sweet-scented garlands unroll, 
Hail spring-time ! dear queen of the seasons, 
You all of the others control. 

The crocuses dance first to meet you 

From the dazzle of snow's icy sheen : 

Then springs up the dainty arbutus 

From under its dead brown-leaf screen. 

And listen! a sound of sweet music 
Steals into the school-room to-day, 

'Tis the song of gay robin and blue-bird, 
In the meadows and woodlands, away. 

But listen again ! happy children 

Are singing of spring, lovely spring ; 

Of all of her many bright blessings, 
The beauty and joy she may bring. 

Now what can we do for our spring-time 
That has been so kind to us all ; 

Who gives the earth all of her beauty 
And music of birds great and small? 

We will be so kind to our playmates — 

There will ne'er be heard cross word or cry 

And to do the will of our teacher, 

And our heavenly Master, we'll try. 



Blessed be God for flowers ! 
For the bright, gentle, holy thoughts, that breathe 
From out their odorous beauty, like a wreath 

Of sunshine on life's hours ! 

Mrs. Charles Tinsley. 




Copyright, isso, by " Garden and Forest." 



THE PURPLE BEECH. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



l8 7 



THE PURPLE BEECH. 

THE large purple beech at Waltham, of which an illustration appears upon 
another page, is no doubt one of the finest individuals of this variety planted 
in the United States. Downing, who was familiar with the Lyman Place, 
does not, however, mention it in his "Landscape Gardening," written forty or 
fifty years ago ; and it is probable that the specimen which was growing at that 
time at Throgg's Neck, in Westchester county, and which Downing declared 
was the finest in the United States, is now, if still alive, much larger than the 
Waltham tree, which has lost a good deal from overcrowding and from the 
garden wall built close to the trunk, which has destroyed the lower branches. 
There is no tree which demands more room for free development than the 
beech ; and a beech, standing on a lawn or in a garden, on which there are no 
lower branches to sweep down to the turf, has lost a large part of the charac- 
teristic beauty which makes it valuable. The stem of the beech, it is true 
especially of the American species, has great beauty and a charm peculiar to 
itself, but it is in the wood or in the forest that this beauty should be seen and 
admired; and beeches should not be planted in ornamental grounds where 
light and space cannot be afforded them for full and unchecked growth in every 
direction. 

The purple beech is a tree of much interest apart from its undoubted value for 
ornamental planting. It is one of the few examples among trees where an abnor- 
mal bud variety has retained its character for more than a century, through 
hundreds of thousands of individuals, all sprung from a single branch (discovered 
toward the middle of the last century upon a tree in the German forest), either 
directly from grafts, and now sometimes by seeds ; for the plants raised from the 
seed of a purple-leaved tree preserve more or less constantly this character to a 
greater or less degree. The seed from certain trees yield more purple-leaved seed- 
lings than those from other trees, although the proportion of the purple-leaved 
seedlings from the same tree vary in different years, and among purple-leaved 
seedlings there is always a great variety of shades of color. In other words, a 
race of purple-leaved beeches is gradually becoming "fixed ; " and if it was not in 
practice more convenient and satisfactory to propagate the best varieties of 
this tree by grafting, it would doubtless be perfectly possible, at the end of a 
few generations, to raise from seed, beeches with leaves of almost any shade of 
purple with as much certainty as different races of the cabbage are obtained 
from seed. There is no reason to doubt, therefore, that the variety will be as 
permanent as the type from which it originated. 

" Garden and Forest '," May 8, 1889. 



Like leaves on trees, the race of man is found, 
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground ; 
Another race the following spring supplies ; 
They fall successive, and successive rise. 

Pope's Iliad. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



LITTLE BY LITTLE. 

ii j ITTLE by little," an acorn said, 

\_^j As it slowly sank in its mossy bed, 
" I am improving every day, 
Hidden deep in the earth away." 

Little by little, each day it grew ; 
Little by little, it sipped the dew ; 
Downward it sent out a thread-like root ; 
Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot. 

Day after day, and year after year, 

Little by little the leaves appear; 

And the slender branches spread far and wide, 

Till the mighty oak is the forest's pride. 

Far down in the depths of the dark blue sea, 
An insect train work ceaselessly. 
Grain by grain, they are building well, 
Each one alone in its little cell. 

Moment by moment, and day by day, 
Never stopping to rest or to play, 
Rocks upon rocks, they are rearing high, 
Till the top looks out on the sunny sky. 

The gentle wind and the balmy air, 

Little by little, bring verdure there ; 

Till the summer sunbeams gayly smile 

On the buds and the flowers of the coral isle. 

" Little by little," said a thoughtful boy, 
"Moment by moment, I'll well employ, 

Learning a little every day, 

And not spending all my time in play. 

And still this rule in my mind shall dwell, 

Whatever I do, I will do it well" 

" Little by little, I'll learn to know 
The treasured wisdom of long ago ; 
And one of these days, perhaps, we'll see 
That-the world will be the better for me ; " 
And do you not think that this simple plan 
Made him a wise and useful man ? 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 189 



H 



BOAT SONG. 

THE EVER-GREEN PINE. 

AIL to the Chief who in triumph advances ! 



Honored and blessed be the ever green Pine ! 
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 
Heaven send it happy dew, 
Earth send it sap anew, 
Gayly to bourgeon and broadly to grow, 
While every Highland glen 
Sends our shout back again, 
' Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe !" 

Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 

Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade , 
When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the mountain, 
The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade, 
Moored in the rifted rock, 
Proof to the tempest's shock, 
Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 

Monteith and Breadalbane, then, 
Echo his praise again, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! ' ' 

Scott's Lady of the Lake— The Island. 



SEED WORD. 

"TMVAS nothing, — a mere idle word, But yet as on the passing wind 

1 From careless lips, that fell, Is. borne the little seed, 

Forgot, perhaps, as soon as said, Which blooms, unheeded, as a flower 
And purposeless as well. Or as a noisome weed, — 

So, often will a single word 

Unknown, its end fulfill, 
And bear, in seed, the flower and fruit 

Of actions good or ill. 



THE ROSE. 



ROSE! thou art the sweetest flower Are amorous of thy scented sigh; 

That ever drank the amber shower ; Cupid, too, in Paphian shades, 

Rose! thou art the fondest child His hair with rosy fillet braids ; 

Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild! Then bring me showers of roses, bring, 
Even the gods who walk the sky And shed them round me while I sing. 

Moore's Odes of Anacreon. 

*Black Roderick, the descendant of Alpine 



190 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



BRING FLOWERS. 



RING flowers to strew in the conqueror's path ! 
He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath ; 
He comes with spoils of nations back, 
The vines lie crushed in his chariot's track, 
The turf looks red where he won the day. 
Bring flowers to die in the conqueror's way ! 

Bring flowers to the captive's lonely cell ! 

They have tales of the joyous woods to tell, — 

Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky, 

And the bright world shut from his languid eye ; 

They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours, 

And the dream of his youth. Bring him flowers, wild flowers 

Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear ! 

They were born to blush in her shining hair. 

She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth, 

She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth, 

Her place is now by another's side. 

Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride ! 

Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed, 

A crown for the brow of the early dead ! 

For this through its leaves hath the white rose burst, 

For this in the woods was the violet nursed ! 

Though they smile in vain for what once was ours, 

They are love's last gift. Bring ye flowers, pale flowers ! 

Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer, — 

They are nature's offering, their place is there ! 

They speak of hope to the fainting heart, 

With a voice of promise they come and part, 

They sleep in dust through the wintry hours, 

They break forth in glory. Bring flowers, bright flowers ! 

Mrs. Hemans. 



Imparting to waste places more than their pristine beauty and associating 
the names of departed loved ones with our work is a poetic and sublime con- 
ception. It symbolizes our faith in a resurrection to a higher and better life, 
when the hard struggles of this sin-cursed world are passed. 

Samuel F. Cary. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



I 9 I 



Written for the ''Arbor Day Manual." 

ARBOR DAY. 

[Air— -''My Maryland."] 

AGAIN we come this day to greet, 
Arbor Day ! sweet Arbor Day ! 
With willing hands and nimble feet, 

Arbor Day ! sweet Arbor Day ! 
No sweeter theme our time can claim, 
No grander deed points us to fame, 
No toy more proud than this we name 
Arbor Day ! dear Arbor Day ! 

Bring forth the trees ! Prepare the earth 

For Arbor Day, sweet Arbor Da} r . 

With song we celebrate the birth 

Of Arbor Day, sweet Arbor Day ! 

And when our joyful task is done, 

And we our meed of praise have won, 

The glorious work's but just begun 

For Arbor Day, dear Arbor Day ! 
Alton, N. Y. Seymour S. Short. 



TO WORDSWORTH. 

POET of nature, thou didst teach to see 
In earth and sky, meadow and river's glide, 
On mountain peaks, in ocean's ceaseless tide, 
Order and truth, a peace and unity, 
In seeming discord and complexity, 

Of nature's handiwork; did teach to know, 
That in all life, even in the flowers that blow, 
There may be seen the shadows of infinity. 

Priest of the beautiful ! thou in thy life 

Of noble thought, of simple wants and cares, 

Of fightings stern in which our days are rife, 
Didst weave a beauty that the hero wears, 

As on he leads to triumph in the strife 

Or bravely in life's common way he fares. 
Chatauquan, 1889. O. F. EMERSON. 



Heart's Ease ! One could look for half a day 

Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out 

Full twentjr different tales of love and sorrow, 

That gave this gentle name. Mary Howitt. 



192 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE MAY QUEEN. 

YOU must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear ; 
To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time, o' all the glad New-year ; 
Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day ; 
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May, 

There's many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine ; 

There's Margaret and Mary, there's Kate and Caroline ; 

But none so fair as little Alice in all the land they say, 

So I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, 

If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break ; 

And I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands gay, 

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

As I came up the valley whom think ye should I see, 

But Robin leaning on the bridge beneath the hazel-tree ? 

He thought of that sharp look, mother, I gave him yesterday, — 

But I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all in white, 
And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash of light. 
They call me cruel-hearted, but I care not what they say, 
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

They say he's dying all for love, but that can never be ; 

They say his heart is breaking, mother — what is that to me? 

There's many a bolder lad 'ill woo me any summer day, 

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, 

And you'll be there too, mother, to see me made the Queen ; 

For the shepherd lads on every side 'ill come from faraway, 

And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

The honeysuckle round the porch has wov'n its wavy bowers, 
And by the meadow trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers; 
And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray, 
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be C)ueen o' the May. 

The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass, 
And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass ; 
There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day, 
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



J 9: 



All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and still, 

And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill, 

And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glance and play, 

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, 
To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year; 
To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, merriest day, 
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

Tennyson. 



WHAT IS THE SONG THE SWALLOWS SING? 



WHAT is the son§ 
When skies ar 



\g the swallows sing, 
ire blue, and May is here, 
And when they haste on joyful wing, 

To tell that summer-time is near? 
The primrose comes to greet the Spring ; 

The roses bloom on every hand, 
What message do the swallows bring 

Returning from a fairer land ? 
Among the trees and in the air, 

They come to us a merry throng ; 
And as we listen to them there, 

What is their song? What is their song ? 
Farewell, farewell unto that distant clime 

Where once we dwelt and memory is sweet, 
And welcome, welcome to the fair spring-time 

That waits us in the land that now we greet. 

What is the song the swallows sing, 

When Autumn skies are dark and drear? 
A tender requiem they bring, 

To all that made the Summer dear, 
Their spring-time joy is turned to grief; 

And each must sing before it goes, 
A message to the falling leaf, 

A message to the fading rose ! 
Ah, faithless rovers ! in the May 

You sang of love so clear and strong ; 
And now, when skies are dull and gray, 

What is your song? What is your song? 
Farewell, farewell unto this pleasant clime, 

Where once we dwelt and memory is sweet, 
And welcome, welcome to the fair spring-time 

That waits us in the land that now we greet. 
13 Harry B. Smith. 



i 9 4 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE LOVE OF NATURE. 

The sounding cataract 
Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, 
Their colors and their forms, were then to me 
An appetite, — a feeling and a love 
That had no need of a remoter charm 
By thought supplied, or any interest 
Unborrowed from the eye. 

That time is past, 
And all its aching joys are now no more, 
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this 
Faint I, nor mourn, nor murmur ; other gifts 
Have followed, for such loss, I would believe, 
Abundant recompense. For I have learned 
To look on nature, not as in the hour 
Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes 
The still sad music of humanity, 
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power 
To chasten and subdue. 

And I have felt 
A presence that disturbs me with the joy 
Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime 
Of something far more deeply interfused, 
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
And the round ocean, and the living air, 
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man ; 
A motion and a spirit that impels 
All thinking things, all objects of all thought, 
And rolls through all things. 

Therefore am I still 
A lover of the meadows and the woods 
And mountains, and of all that we behold 
From this green earth ; of all the might}- world 
Of eye and ear, both what they half create 
And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize 
In nature, and the language of the sense, 
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, 
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 
Of all my moral being. 

Wordsworth, 

I love not man the less but nature more. 

Byron's Apostrophe*. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



J 95 



THE GINGERBREAD TREE. 

OH, do j r ou know, and do you know, 
The tree where risen doughnuts grow, 
And in a shower come tumbling down, 
All sugary and crisp and brown ? 

And did you ever chance to see 
The plum-cakes on this charming tree ? 
And reaching o'er the fence, perhaps 
A stem just strung with ginger-snaps? 

The house stands close beside the street ; 

Around its roof the branches meet. 

If you look up, about your head 

Fall down great squares of gingerbread. 

Once when I went inside the door, 
Through the wide window to the floor, 
A bough came bending all apart, 
And tossed me in a jelly tart. 

Whoever lives there, I must say, 
Though he is lame, and old, and gray, 
What a rare gardener he must be, 
And, oh, how happy with that tree ! 

My mother says that very few 
Gingerbread-trees she ever knew, 
And none shook down, it seems to her, 
Like this, an apple turnover. 

Some days it drops upon the ground, 
Soft, soft, a frosted heart, and round, 
And sometimes, when the branches stir, 
Such cookies rain as never were. 

And you can guess — oh, you can guess 
That if 'tis too far a recess, 
Yet all the children, as a rule, 
Go slow there, coming home from school. 
Harper's Voting People, 1889. Harriet Prescott Spofford. 



Ivy clings to wood or stone. 
And hides the ruin that it feeds upon. 

Cowper. 



96 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE OAK. 

WHAT gnarled stretch, what depth of shade, is his ! 
There needs no crown to mark the forest's king ; 
How in his leaves outshines full summer's bliss! 

Sun, storm, rain, dew, to him their tribute bring, 
Which he with such benignant royalty 

Accepts, as overpayeth what is lent; 

All nature seems his vassal proud to be, 

And cunning only for his ornament. 

How towers he, too, amid the billowed snows, 

An unquelled exile from the summer's throne, 
Whose plain, uncinctured front more kingly shows, 

Now that the obscuring courtier leaves are flown. 
His boughs make music of the winter air, 

Jeweled with sleet, like some cathedral front 
Where clinging snow flakes with quaint art repair 

The dints and furrows of time's envious brunt. 

How doth his patient strength the rude March wind 

Persuade to seem glad breaths of summer breeze, 
And win the soil that fain would be unkind, 

To swell his revenues with proud increase ! 
He is the gem; and all the landscape wide 

(So doth his grandeur isolate the sense) 
Seems but the setting, worthless all beside, 

An empty socket, were he fallen thence. 

So, from oft converse with life's wintry gales, 

Should man learn how to clasp with tougher roots 
The inspiring earth ; how otherwise avails 

The leaf-creating sap that sunward shoots ? 
So every year that falls with noiseless flake 

Should fill old scars upon the stormward side, 
And make hoar age revered for age's sake, 

Not for traditions of youth's leafy pride. 

So, from the pinched soil of a churlish fate, 

True hearts compel the sap of sturdier growth, 
So between earth and heaven stand simply great 

That these shall seem but their attendants both; 
For natures's forces with obedient zeal 

Wait on the rooted faith and oaken will ; 
As quickly the pretender's cheat they feel, 

And turn mad Pucks to flout and mock him still. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



197 



Lord ! all Thy works are lessons; each contains 

Some emblem of man's all containing soul; 
Shall he make fruitless all Thy glorious pains, 

Delving within thy grace and eyeless mole ? 
Make me the least of Thy Dodona-grove, 

Cause me some message of Thy truth to bring, 
Speak but a word through me, nor let Thy love 

Among my boughs disdain to perch and sing. 

James Russell Lowell. 



NATURE'S TEMPLE. 

TALK not of temples — there is one, built without hands, to mankind given 
Its lamps are the meridian sun, and all the stars of heaven. 
Its walls are the cerulean sky, its floor the earth, serene and fair ; 
The dome is vast immensity — all Nature worships there ! 

The Alps arrayed in stainless snow, the Andean ranges yet untrod, 
At sunrise and at sunset glow, like altar-fires to God ! 
A thousand fierce volcanoes blaze, as if with hallowed victims rare; 
And thunder lifts its voice in praise — all Nature worships there ! 

The cedar and the mountain pine, the willow on the fountain's brim, 

The tulip and the eglantine, in reverence bend to Him ; 

The song-birds pour their sweetest lays, from tower, and tree and middle air; 

The rushing river murmurs praise — all Nature worships there ! 

David Vedder. 



SPRING. 



COME, gentle spring ! ethereal mildness, come, 
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, 
While music wakes around, veiled in a shower 
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend. 
And see where surly winter passes off, 
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts ; 
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, 
The shattered forest, and the ravaged vale ; 
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, 
Dissolving snows in living torrents lost, 
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky. 

From Thomson's " Seasons. 



And there is Pansics — that's for thoughts. Hamlet. 



198 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE CHILDREN. 



AH ! what would this world be to us 
If the children were no more ? 
We should dread the desert behind us 
Worse than the dark before. 

What the leaves are to the forest, 
With light and air for food, 

Ere their sweet and tender juices 

Have been hardened into wood — 



That to the world are children; 

Through them it feels the glow 
Of a brighter and sunnier climate 

Than reaches the trunks below. 

Come to me, O ye children ! 

And whisper in my ear 
What the birds and the winds are singing 

In your sunny atmosphere. 



Ye are better than all the ballads 
That ever were sung or said, 

For ye are the living poems, 
And all the rest are dead. 



Longfellow. 



HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN. 



u 



LL tell you how the leaves came 
X down," 

The great tree to his children said: 
" You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, 
Yes, very sleepy, little Red." 



Perhaps the great tree will forget, 
And let us stay until the spring, 

If we all beg, and coax and fret." 

But the great tree did no such thing; 
He smiled to hear their whispering. 



Ah ! " begged each silly pouting leaf 
" Let us a little longer stay; 
Dear Father Tree, behold our grief ; 
'Tis such a very pleasant day, 
We do not want to go away." 

So, just for one more merry day 
To the great tree the leaflets clung, 

Frolicked and danced, and had their 
way, 
Upon the autumn breezes swung. 
Whispering all their sports among. 



Come, children all, to bed," he cried; — 
And ere the leaves could urge their 
prayer, 

He shook his head, and far and wide, 
Fluttering and rustling everywhere, 
Down sped the leaflets through the air. 

I saw them; on the ground the)' lay, 
Golden and red, a huddled swarm, 

Waiting till one from far away, 

White bedclothes heaped upon her arm 
Should come to wrap them safe and warm. 



The great bare tree looked down and smiled. 

"Good-night, dear little leaves," he said. 
And from below each sleepy child 

Replied, " Good-night," and murmured, 

" It is so nice to go to bed ! " 



Susan Coolidge. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL, 199 



THE IVY. 

PUSHING the clods of earth aside, 
Leaving the dark where foul things hide, 
Spreading its leaves to the summer sun, 
Bondage ended, freedom won ; 

So, my soul, like the ivy be, 

Rise, for the sunshine calls for thee ! 

Climbing up as the seasons go, 

Looking down upon things below, 

Twining itself in the branches high, 

As if the frail thing owned the sky ; 
So my soul, like the ivy be, 
Heaven, not earth, is the place for thee. 

Wrapping itself round the giant oak, 
Hiding itself from the tempest's stroke; 
Strong and brave is the fragile thing, 
For it knows one secret, how to cling. 

So, my soul, there's strength for thee, 

Hear the Mighty One : " Lean on me." 

Green are its leaves when the world is white, 

For the ivy sings through the frosty night ; 

Keeping the hearts of oak awake, 

Till the flowers shall bloom and the spring shall break ; 

So, my soul, through the winter's rain, 

Sing the sunshine back again. 

Opening its green and fluttering breast. 
Giving the timid birds a nest ; 
Coming out from the winter wild, 
To make a wreath for the Holy Child ; 

So, let my life like the ivy be, 

A help to man and a wreath for Thee ! 
Good Words. Henry BURTON. 



' Take whatever God sends, 

As the blossoming pansies do : 
He clothes them with royal grace ; 

Shall he not take thought for you ? 
Trust — for the trustful heart 

Knoweth the tenderest leading, 
Knoweth how certainly God 

Our need and our craving is heeding." 



200 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE BEECH TREE'S PETITION. 

OH leave this barren spot to me, 
Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree ! 
Though shrub or flow'ret never grow, 
Wly wan unwanning shade below, 
Nor fruits of autumn blossom born 
My green and glossy leaves adorn, 
Nor murmuring tribes from me derive 
The ambrosial treasures of the hive, 
Yet leave this little spot to me, 
Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree. 

Thrice twenty summers have I stood 
In bloomless, fruitless solitude; 
Since childhood in my rustling bower 
First spent its sweet and sportive hour, 
Since youthful lovers in my shade 
Their vows of truth and rapture paid, 
And on my trunk's surviving frame 
Carv'd many a long forgotten name. 
Oh, by the vows of gentle sound 
First breathed upon this sacred ground, 
By all that Love hath whispered here, 
Or Beauty heard with ravish 'd ear, 
As Love's own altar honor me, 
Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree. 

Thomas Campbell. 



SONG OF THE ROSE. 

IF Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth, 
He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it; 
For the rose, ho, the rose ! is the grace of the earth, 
Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it ! 
For the rose, ho, the rose ! is the eye of the flowers, 
Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair, — 
Is the lightning of beauty, that strikes through the bowers 
On pale lovers that sit in the glow unaware. 
Ho, the rose breathes of love ! ho, the rose lifts the cup 
To the red eyes of Cypris invoked for a guest ! 
Ho, the rose having curled its sweet leaves for the world 
Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up, 
As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 2Q1 



THE PETRIFIED FERN. 

IN a valley, centuries ago, 
Grew a little fern leaf green and slender; 
Veining delicate and fibres tender; 
Waving, when the wind crept down so low. 
Rushes tall and moss and grass grew round it, 
Playful sunbeams darted in and found it, 
Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it, 
But no foot of man e'er trod that way. 
Earth was young and keeping holiday. 

Monster fishes swam the silent main, 
Stately forests waved their giant branches, 
Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches, 
Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain; 
Nature reveled in grand mysteries, 
But the little fern was not of these, 
Did not number with the hills and trees ; 
Only grew and waved its wild sweet way ; 
No one came to note it day by day. 

Earth one time put on a frolic mood, 

Heaved the rocks and changed the mighty motion 

Of the deep, strong currents of the ocean, 

Moved the plain and shook the haughty wood, 

Crushed the little fern in soft, moist clay, 

Covered it and hid it safe away. 

Oh the long, long centuries since that day ! 

Oh the changes, oh life's bitter cost, 

Since that useless little fern was lost ! 

Useless? Lost? There came a thoughtful man 

Searching nature's secrets far and deep; 

From a fissure in a rocky steep 

He withdrew a stone o'er which there ran 

Fairy pencilings, a quaint design, 

Veinings, leafage, fibres clear and fine, 

And the fern's life lay in every line. 

So, I think, God hides some souls away 

Sweetly to surprise us the last day. 

Mary L. Bolles Branch. 



Under the shad}- roof 

Of branching elm star-proof. 

Milton's Arcades. 



2Q2 ' ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPRING SONG. 

NOW the lovely spring has come, Hear the merry babbling brook, 

See the fragrant flowers bloom, Rippling through each shady nook! 

Birds are here with their song, Coming here, going there, 

Cheering us along. Making all so fair. 

Making all our faces bright. See the little finny tribe, 

Till our hearts beat with delight, Rushing everywhere to hide, 

Happv spring, merry spring, In and out, round about, 

We thy praises sing. In their merry rout. 

See the little lambs at play, 

Skipping through the livelong day, 

Happy they on their way 

To the meadows gay. 

Through the meads and through the vales 

O'er the hills and pleasant dales, 

Here they go, to and fro, 

Not a care they know. 

Kate Hawthorn. 



c 



MY HOME IN THE WILDWOOD. 

OME to my home in the wild wood, Sweet 'tis to stray in the wildwood; 

Come where the heart is so free, When the day's cares are all o'er; 



Bidding adieu to your sorrow, Bright flowers are strown in our pathway, 

Here let your dwelling place be. Fresh leaves adorn the gay floor. 

Here you may find in the wildwood, 

Freedom from sorrow and care, 
Casting aside all your burdens, 

Here find sweet solace in prayer. 



N 



HAIL, ARBOR DAY. 

OW fair Arbor Day is here, Hail, all hail, fair Arbor Day; 

Filled with all its happy hours; Prophecy of coming beauty 



Loyal children, far and near, When the years have passed away 

Plant their trees and scatter flowers. With their weight of care and duty, 

Knowing well their Father's e) r e We will love thee still the same, 

Rests upon them from the sky, And fond memory at thy name, , 

Viewing all their deeds with love, Will recall the gladsome days, 

As through blossoming lands they rove. When we roamed in woodland ways. 

Soon the trees will grow, Happy, thoughtless youth, 

And gently throw With love and truth, 

A shade through sunny hours, Blent in a rhyme of hours, 

Feathered songsters bring the music, And the Arbor Day of friendship, 

And our Father send the showers. Crowned with innocence and flowers. 

Kingston, A T . Y. — School No. 3 Exercises. 18S9. Lizzie D. Roosa. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 20' 



GROWTH. 

GROW as the trees grow, 
Your head lifted straight to the sky, 
Your roots holding fast where they lie, 
In the richness below ; 
Your branches outspread 
To the sun pouring down, and the dew, 
With the glorious infinite blue 

Stretching over your head. 

Receiving the storms 
That may writhe you, and bend, but not break, 
While your roots the more sturdily take 

A strength in their forms. 

God means us, the growth of His trees, 
Alike thro' the shadow and shine, 
Receiving as freely the life-giving wine 

Of the air and the breeze. 

Not sunshine alone, 
The soft summer dew and the breeze 
Hath fashioned these. wonderful trees. 

The tempest hath moaned : 
They have tossed their strong arms in despair, 
At the blast of the terrible there, 

In the thunder's loud tone. 

But under it all 
Were the roots clasping closer the sod, 
The top still aspiring to God 

Who prevented their fall. 

Come out from the gloom, 
And open your heart to the light 
That is flooding God's world with delight, 

And unfolding its bloom. 

His kingdom of grace 
Is symboled in all that we see, 
In budding and leafing of tree, 

And fruit in its place. 
Chatauquan, July, 1S84. Emily J. Bugbee. 



204 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



FOR ARBOR DAY. 

ALL hail this day —glad Arbor Day ! 
A day for joyous labor; 
A work that blesses every heart 

Because for friend and neighbor; 
When boy, girl, man and woman, too, 

The loss of trees deploring, 
Come forth with heart and hand to learn 
Dame Nature's art — restoring ! 

Man has cut down the stalwart trees, 

Nor thought of e'er replacing ; 
His reckless waste should on his cheek 

Be fiery blushes tracing. 
To rob the mother of her jewels 

Is but the grossest sinning, 
When she so ready is to take 

New nurslings from beginning. 

O see how well does Nature pay — 

Her grand Controller praising, 
For every tree that she destroys 

She thousands more is raising ; 
She sends the seeds, with hand so free, 

To earth's kind bosom nestling. 
And gives a feast to growing germs 

That lightens all their wrestling. 

O )'e who love these native gems, 

So charming in their living; 
See how the needs of human life, 

Destructive force is giving! 
It fells them from their native homes, 

Where purest beauty, growing. 
Impels the heart and mind of man 

To stand in meekness bowing. 

Look atthe stately forest kings 

That stand morn, noon and even, 
Their tops long reaching out to kiss 

The light so richly given i 
There, 'neath that forest's foliage shade, 

The spirits joys enliven, 
And feel the secrets of all life — 

The life of God and heaven. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



205 



Then plant the flower, the shrub, the vine, 
, For man, bird, beast and beauty ; 

The basswood, oak, the beech and pine — 

It is for all a duty — 
The hemlock, ash, the spruce and elm ; 

And fruits, so very many — 
Ay, plant of all that meet man's needs, 

And that is all, if any. 

They are so lovely, fresh and grand, 

So richly ornamental; 
By roadside, meadow, field, in wood, 

They've beauty transcendental ; 
Give just one day in all the year, 

Twill pay for all your ardors, 
And Arbor Day will soon display 

A land of charming arbors. 
Wateriown, X. Y. GEORGE Adams 



ARBOR DAY ODE. 

RAISE a Song of gladness on this festal day, 
Which shall be a forest symphony, 
Chiming with the music of melodious May, 
Sung in honor of each growing tree. 

Chorus. — Happy, happy with the joys of spring, 
Gayly, gayly our delights we sing. 
Children blest of heaven, who so glad as we, 
Pealing forth the anthem of the free ? 

Honor to the oak tree, emblem of the power, 
Making this fair nation proud and strong, 

Great with all the glories of heaven's richest dower. 
Worthy all the praise of festal song. — Cho. 

Honor to the pine tree, with its fadeless sheen, 

Type of beauty in our native land, 
Which the sister nations from afar have seen, 

Through the years a pattern long to stand. — Cho. 

Trees are forms of beauty that our minds upraise 

To the boundiess Giver of all good. 
Loving God of Nature, hear our song of praise 

For the beauties of the field and wood. — Cho. 

Maker of each glory of our native land, 

May each form of beauty which we see, 
In the pleasant meadow and the forest grand, 

Lift our souls to higher thoughts of Thee. — Cho. 
Kingston, N. Y., Academy Exercises, 1889. Parr Harlow. 



2o6 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



"pi; 



Written for the " Arbor Day Manual." 

SONG TO THE MAPLE TREE.* 

tS the tree of the State, and most wisely selected, 
To emblem the progress her children have made; 
Henceforth by our care shall its right be protected 
To gather the weary to bask in its shade. 
Chorus — Maple tree ! Maple tree ! none can compare with thee ! 
Sipping earth's nectar, to sweetness impart. 
Sweeter thy loving care, sweeter thy shadows are ; 
Sweeter thy songsters that gladden the heart. 

The tribes of the air for their nesting most choose it,* 
Their billing and cooing heard most in its groves; 

Why then should our youthful affections refuse it ? 
This fitting abode for the gods and their loves ? 
Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 

The ever-green foliage may tower from our mountains, 

'Neath the pine and the hemlock the wild tribes abide ; 
But majestic o'er landscape, by sweet sparkling fountains, 
The silver-leaved maple of man is the pride. 
Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 

Soft fragrance and balm, in the dew of the morning, 
Exhale on the breeze with the songster's sweet lay ; 

Its green arching plumes all our pathway adorning, 

A shield and defense from the sun's scorching ray. 
Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 

Then plant ye the maple so young and so slender ; 

And grow with its growth as the years shall roll by ; 
While tow'rd manhood, ye vie with the tree in its splendor, 
Each measure made full from great nature's supply. 
Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 
Watertown, N. Y. E, A. HOLBROOK. 



THE BIRDS CHOOSE THE MAPLE. 

There is another fact which strikes one in looking at these nests about the 
village; the birds of different feathers show a very marked preference for 
building in maples. It is true these trees are more numerous than others about 
our streets, but there are also elms, locusts, and sumachs mingled with them, 
enough, at least, to decide the question very clearly. This afternoon we counted 
the nests in the different trees as we passed them, with a view to this particu- 
lar point, and the result was as follows : The first we came to were in a clump 

* B}' a vote of those who participated in the Arbor Day exercises of 1889, in New York State, the Maple 
was chosen as the State Tree. See also, the selection at the foot of this page. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 207 

of young trees of various kinds, and here we found nine nests, one in a locust, 
the other eight in maples. Then following the street with trees irregularly 
planted on either side, a few here, a few there, we counted forty-nine nests, all 
of which were in maples, although several elms and locusts were mingled with 
these; frequently there were several nests in the same maple. * * * Such 
was the state of things in the principal streets through which we passed, mak- 
ing in all one hundred and twenty-seven nests, and of these, eighteen were in 
various kinds of trees, the remaining one hundred and nine were in maples. 

Susan Fenimore Cooper in " Rural Hours ." 



ACORN AND CHESTNUT. 

ONE pleasant day in October an acorn and a chestnut were lying side by side 
on the brown earth where they had fallen. 

" I hope I shall be safe in the ground before winter comes," said the acorn. 
" Snow and ice do not agree with me. In fact, if they come before I am under 
shelter they will kill me ; and it would be sad indeed, if so fine and large an acorn 
as I am should be lost ; for I expect to become a great oak some time, and oaks, 
as you know, are the kings of the forest." 

"Yes, I hope so too," said the chestnut, "I want to be safe before winter 
comes. I would like to grow into a tree; for the swallows have told me that 
in all lands a strong, tall tree is thought to be one of the finest things in the 
world." 

" Oh, chestnut trees are not much," said the acorn. " No one cares any thing 
about them except the boys, who think it fun to climb up among their branches 
and shake down the nuts. For my part, if I were a tree. I shouldn't care to 
live just to please a few children; and 1 am sure it would make me very angry 
to see them eating the fruit which I had taken the trouble to bear." 

" Well, " said the chestnut, " every tree to its taste. Some trees would rather 
have their food liked by boys and girls than have it be fit for nothing but pigs." 

"What?" said the acorn, growing angry. "The oak is the noblest of all the 
trees. From its wood are made the great ships that go sailing over the ocean. 
It lives hundreds of years, and gives shade to thousands of people, and homes 
to millions of birds ; and if, as I heard a man say one day, 'great oaks from 
little acorns grow,' what a noble tree may be expected from such an acorn as 
I am ! " 

" But how will you be planted ? " asked the chestnut. 

"Oh, that's easy enough," answered the acorn. "Everyday I feel myself 
sinking deeper and deeper into the ground; and when I am deep enough the 
wind will throw some fine rich earth over me, and there I shall lie snug and 
warm until spring. 

"Then, after putting out two little green leaves, I shall grow no more above 
ground for some time, but only keep spreading my roots and making them 
stronger. I shall grow slowly for years, until at last I shall spread out my 
branches for a great distance around, and become the king of the forest. Ah, 
how eiacl I am that I'm an acorn and not a chestnut ! " 



2oS ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Just then, a squirrel, who had been peeping at them from her nest in the 
hollow of a tree, jumped down and seized the chestnut in her little gray paws. 

"Good-by," sneered the acorn, as she carried it away. "That's the last of 
you. But, then, there is no great loss. You would have been only a chestnut 
tree, at the best. Chestnuts are good enough for squirrels." 

But, when the squirrel had put the chestnut away in her nice little house, she 
sprang down again, seized the acorn, and carried it up too. 

" Hello," said the chestnut, " here we are together again. There is little hope 
now that either of us will ever become a tree. And, as matters stand, I cannot 
see that an acorn is very much better than a chestnut after all." 

But the acorn said nothing. 



THE ELM. 



BEAUTIFUL in her majestic grandeur, as she sends out her branches to the 
heavens, stands the American elm, a tough, hardy giant of field and for- 
est, its massive trunks and wide-spreading roots bidding defiance to the strong- 
est winds which nature can send to beat against its broad symmetrical top. 
While Englishmen eulogize the oak, and poets sing of the linden and sycamore, 
the hearts of the children of, at least, the Empire State, cling with devotion to 
that tree, which marks so many important events in the history of the land they 
love. Who has not heard of the Elm at Shakamaxon, under the spreading 
branches of which William Penn made his famous treaty with the Indians, 
which was never sworn to and which stands alone as the only treaty made by 
the whites with the Indians which was never broken. For more than a century 
and a quarter, this tree stood a grand monument of this most sincere treaty 
ever made, but in 1S10 it was blown down, and a monument of marble now but 
poorly marks the spot where it stood. 

It was the elm that was first consecrated to American independence, and that 
tree planted by the Boston school-master, so long before separation from Great 
Britain was scarcely dreamed of in the colonies, and dedicated to their future 
independence, was long looked upon with love and pride, and when at last it was 
blown down, tolling bells related the story of its fall. 

It was also the elm that shaded Washington on that July 3d, 1775, when he 
took command of the American army at Cambridge, and began that long pub- 
lic life in which he exhibited such brilliant talents, and won for himself the de- 
serving title of " Father of his Country." 

We have been an independent nation for more than a century, but this tree 
still stands, and its massive trunk and wide-spreading branches form a fitting 
emblem of the prosperous nation that started out, as it were, from beneath its 
shade, and in it are centered fond remembrances of our Revolutionary fathers. 

Years will pass away, and " Providence permitting, " these trees which we plant 
to-day will have become sturdy elms. Those who are now school children will act 
their part in the theatre of life and become old men and women ; but wherever they 
are, whether they are in honor or disgrace, in prosperity or adversity, their hap- 
piest recollections will be centered in these childhood days, and these elms mark- 
ing this Arbor Day will long remain as monuments of former happy times. 

" The Student" Richfield Springs, 1889. H. H. B. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 209 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 

THE BIRCH TREE. 

[Air — " Auld Lang Syne."] 

THOUGH oak, and elm, and maple tree, Then plant the birch, the silver)' birch, 
Call forth our love and care, Near to the school-house door, 

With tender buds, and opening leaves, For teachers used its pliant limbs, 

They woo the soft May air, Full oft in days of yore. 

Let not the birch tree be forgot, And though 'tis used for rods no more, 

For well I bear in mind 'Twill please the children kind, 

Its spicy buds and fragrant bark, Its spicy buds and fragrant bark, 
I searched the woods to find. They search the woods to find. 

Mrs. Addie V. McMullen. 
South Sodus, N. Y. 



THE SEED. 



THE farmer planted a seed, — 
A little dry, black seed; 
And off he went to other work, — 
For the farmer never was known to shirk, — 
And cared for what had need. 

The night came with its dew, — 

The cool and silent dew ; 
The dawn came, and the day, 
And the farmer worked away, 

At labors not a few. 

***** 
Home from his work one day, — 

One glowing summer day, — 
His children showed him a perfect flower; 
It had burst in bloom that very hour; 

How, I cannot say. 

But I know if the smallest seed 

In the soil of love be cast, 
Both day and night will do their part; 
And the sower who works with a patient heart, 

Will find the flower at last. 



Now blossom all the trees, and all the fields 
And all the woods their pomp of foliage wear, 
And nature's fairest robe adorns the blooming year. 

14 Beattie. 



2 IO ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



ARBOR DAY. 

THE observance of Arbor Day in New York State is at once new, novel and 
interesting, as well as highly instructive. Its advantages are man}', and 
'the public benefits that may be derived therefrom cannot be overestimated. 
One of its main objects, however, as cited in the State Superintendent's circu- 
lar letter, is to instill into the minds of the growing generation a genuine love 
of Nature in her manifold forms, and to know and love Nature is to protect 
her. It is meet, indeed, that our schools should become a coadjutant power, 
and what activity and zeal they may manifest will perhaps inspire their elders 
to better efforts. 

The grandest achievement of this observation of Arbor Day would be to cen- 
ter the public mind upon the all-important fact that stringent and immediate 
measures should be adopted for the preservation of our forests, and to institute 
a common-sense investigation relative to their important climatic effects in 
many localities. Forest trees are excellent condensers of moisture, and as the 
vapor-laden clouds float above the large tracts, the contained moisture is con- 
densed and falls as rain or snow. In these densely wooded districts the soil is 
naturally spongy and permeable. Rain falling on such ground is readily ab- 
sorbed, and at once finds a passage to underground natural reservoirs, so valu- 
able in many instances. The thick canopy of foliage affords excellent protec- 
tion from the sun's greedy rays, and hence what moisture falls, is not lost in 
evaporation. Streams which find their source here are never failing, and their 
unceasing flow swells many a larger stream, thus made valuable for manufac- 
turing power. And then again how dependent upon these tiny tributaries are 
the many and varied manufacturing interests. How insignificant would be our 
inland commerce and navigation without them. 

As modifiers of the climate, trees, woodlands, and forest-tracts are not justly 
appreciated. They cool the atmosphere, and so temper the extremes of climatic 
" fickleness," that they become somewhat more endurable. They act as obstruc- 
tions to destructive winds, which in event of the absence of forest-lands would 
have a clear sweep across unprotected districts. As beneficial to health, they 
stand pre-eminent. In primitive times forests were considered as hindrances, 
and the clearing of forest lands was thought to be a national necessity. The 
barrenness and sterility of the bible-countries was caused hy this demolition of 
its forest lands, and trees are now so valuable in Persia that he who plants one 
is known as a public benefactor. 

The first advocate of tree-planting in this country was the Hon. G. P. Marsh, 
and when the Central Pacific railroad was constructed, thousands of trees were 
planted alongside. Thus the custom originated in the far west, was first adopted 
as a holiday among the public schools in Nebraska, and has now reached the 
east. May the day grow in popularit5 r , and may the lesson it strives to teach 
become a public task. 

" The Student " — Richfield Springs, 1889. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 I I 



A NEW HOLIDAY. 

ANEW holiday is a boon to Americans, and this year the month of May gave 
a new holiday to the State of New York. It has been already observed 
elsewhere. It began, indeed, in Nebraska seventeen years ago, and thirty-four 
States and two Territories have preceded New York in adopting it. If the name 
of Arbor Day may seem to be a little misleading, because the word "arbor,' 
which meant a tree to the Romans, means a bower to Americans, j r et it may well 
serve until a better name is suggested, and its significance by general under- 
standing will soon be as plain as Decoration Day. 

The holiday has been happily associated in this State especially with the 
public schools. This is most fitting, because the public school is the true and 
universal symbol of the equal rights of all citizens before the law, and of the 
fact that educated intelligence is the basis of 'good popular government. The 
more generous the cultivation of the mind, and the wider the range of knowl- 
edge, the more secure is the great national commonwealth. The intimate asso- 
ciation of the schools with tree-planting is fortunate in attracting boys and 
girls to a love and knowledge of nature, and to a respect for trees because of 
their value to the whole community. 

The scheme for the inauguration of the holiday in New York was issued by 
the Superintendent of Public Instruction. It provided for simple and proper 
exercises, the recitation of brief passages from English literature relating to 
trees, songs about trees sung by the children, addresses, and planting of trees, 
to be named for distinguished persons of every kind. 

The texts for such addresses are indeed as numerous as the trees, and there 
may be an endless improvement of the occasion, to the pleasure and the profit 
of the scholars. They may be reminded that our knowledge of trees begins at 
a ver)' early age, even their own, and that it usually begins with a close and 
thorough knowledge of the birch. 

This, indeed, might be called the earliest service of the tree to the child, if 
we did not recall the cradle and the crib. The child rocking in the cradle is the 
baby rocking in the tree-top, and as the child hears the nurse droning her 
drows)^ rock-a-bye, baby, it may imagine that it hears the wind sighing through 
the branches of the tree. To identify the tree with human life and to give the 
pupil a personal interest in it will make the public school nurseries of sound 
opinion which will prevent the ruthless destruction of the forests. 

The sendee of the trees to us begins with the cradle and ends with the coffin. 
But it continues through our lives, and is of almost unimaginable extent and 
variety. In this country our houses and their furniture and the fences that 
inclose them are largely the product of the trees. The fuel that warms them, 
even if it be coal, is the mineralized wood of past ages. The frames and handles 
of agricultural implements, wharves, boats, ships, India-rubber, gums, bark, 
cork, carriages and railroad cars and ties — wherever the eye falls it sees the 
beneficent service of the trees. Arbor Day recalls this direct service on even 
hand, and reminds us of the indirect ministry of trees as guardians of the 
sources of rivers — the great forests making the densely shaded hills, covered 



2 i 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

with the accumulating leaves of ages, huge sponges from which trickle the 
supplies of streams. To cut the forests recklessly is to dry up the rivers. It 
is a crime against the whole community, and scholars and statesmen both 
declare that the proper preservation of the forests is the paramount public 
question. Even in a mercantile sense it is a prodigious question, for the esti- 
mated value of our forest products in 1880 was $800,000,000, a value nearly 
double that of the wheat crop, ten times that of gold and silver, and forty times 
that of our iron ore. 

It was high time that we considered the trees. They are among our chief 
benefactors, but they are much better friends to us than ever we have been to 
them. If as the noble horse passes us, tortured with the overdraw check and 
the close blinders and nagged with the goad, it is impossible not to pity him 
that he has been delivered into the hands of men to be cared for, not less is the 
tree to be pitied. It seems as if we had never forgotten or forgiven that early 
and intimate acquaintance with the birch, and have been revenging ourselves 
ever since. We have waged against trees a war of extermination like that of 
the Old Testament Christians of Massachusetts Bay against the Pequot Indians. 
We have treated the forests as if they were noxious savages or vermin. It was 
necessary, of course, that the continent should be suitably cleared for settle- 
ment and agriculture. But there was no need of shaving it as with a razor. If 
Arbor Day teaches the growing generation of children that in clearing a field 
some trees should be left for shade and for beauty, it will have rendered good 
service. In regions rich with the sugar-maple tree the young maples are saved 
from the general massacre because their sap, turned into sugar, is a marketable 
commodity. But every tree yields some kind of sugar, if it be only shade for 
a cow. 

Let us hope also that Arbor Day will teach the children, under the wise 
guidance of experts, that trees are to be planted with intelligence and care, if 
they are to become both vigorous and beautiful. A sapling is not to be cut into 
a bean-pole, but carefully trimmed in accordance with its form. A tree which 
has lost its head will never recover it again, and will survive only as a monument 
of the ignorance and folly of its tormentor. Indeed, one of the happiest results 
of the new holiday will be the increase of knowledge which springs from per- 
sonal interest in trees. 

This will be greatly promoted by naming those which are planted on Arbor 
Day. The interest of children in pet animals, in dogs, squirrels, rabbits, cats, 
and ponies, springs largely from their life and their dependence upon human 
care. When the young tree also is regarded as living and equally dependent 
upon intelligent attention, when it is named by vote of the scholars, and 
planted by them with music and pretty ceremony, it will also become a pet, 
and a human relation will be established. If it be named for a living man or 
woman, it is a living memorial and a perpetual admonition to him whose name 
it bears not to suffer his namesake tree to outstrip him, and to remember that 
a man, like a tree, is known by his fruits. 

Trees will acquire a new charm for intelligent children when they associate 
them with famous persons. Watching to see how Bryant and Longfellow are 
growing, whether Abraham Lincoln wants water, or George Washington. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



213 



promises to flower early, or Benjamin Franklin is drying up, whether Robert 
Fulton is budding, or General Grant beginning to sprout, the pupil will find 
that a tree may be as interesting as the squirrel that skims along its trunk, or 
the bird that calls from its top like a muezzin from a minaret. 

The future orators of Arbor Day will draw the morals that lie in the resem- 
blances of all life. It is by care and diligent cultivation that the wild crab is 
subdued to bear sweet fruit, and by skillful grafting and budding that the same 
stock produces different varieties. And so you, Master Leonard or Miss Alice, 
if you are cross and spiteful and selfish and bullying, you also must be budded 
and trained. Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined, young gentlemen, and 
you must start straight if you would not grow up crooked. Just as the boy 
begins, the man turns out. 

So, trained by Arbor Day, as the children cease to be children they will feel 
the spiritual and refining influence, the symbolical beauty, of the trees. Like 
men, they begin tenderly and grow larger and larger, in greater strength, more 
deeply rooted, more widely spreading, stretching leafy boughs for birds to build 
in, shading the cattle that chew the cud and graze in peace, decking themselves 
in blossoms and ever-changing foliage, and murmuring with rustling music by 
day and night. The thoughtful youth will see a noble image of the strong man 
struggling with obstacles that he overcomes in a great tree wrestling mightily 
with the wintry gales, and extorting a glorious music from the storms which it 
triumphantly defies. 

Arbor Day will make the country visibly more beautiful every year. Every 
little community, every school district, will contribute to the good work. The 
school-house will gradually become an ornament, as it is already the great 
benefit of the village, and the children will be put in the way of living upon 
more friendly and intelligent terms with the bountiful nature which is so 
friendly to us. 

George William Curtis. 

Editor' s Easy Chair, Harper 's Magazine, July, 1889. 



The objects of the restoration of the forests are as multifarious as the motives 
which have led to their destruction, and as the evils which that destruction has 
occasioned. The planting of the mountains will diminish the frequency and 
violence of river inundations; prevent the formation of torrents; mitigate the 
extremes of atmospheric temperature, humidity, and precipitation; restore 
dried-up springs, rivulets, and sources of irrigation ; shelter the fields from 
chilling and from parching winds; prevent the spread of miasmatic effluvia; 
and, finally, furnish an inexhaustible and self-renewing supply of material indis- 
pensable to so many purposes of domestic comfort, to the successful exercise 
of every art of peace, every destructive energy of war. 

George P. Marsh. 



A brotherhood of venerable trees. Wordsworth — Somiet. 



214 



ARBOR DA V- MANUAL. 



UNDER THE PALMS. 

I KNEW a palm tree upon Capri. It stood in select society of shining fig 
leaves and lustrous oleanders; it overhung the balcony, and so looked, 
far overleaning, down upon the blue Mediterranean. Through the dream-mists 
of southern Italian noons it looked up the broad bay of Naples and saw vague 
Vesuvius melting away; or at sunset the isles of the Sirens, whereon they singing 
sat, and wooed Ulysses as he sailed by. From the Sorrento, where Tasso was 
born, it looked across to pleasant Posilippo, where Virgil is buried, and to 
stately Ischia. The palm of Capri saw all that was fairest and most famous in 
the Bay of Naples. 

The palm was a poet, — as ail palms are poets. When I asked a bard whom 
I knew what the palm tree sang in its melancholy measures of waving, he told 
me that not Vesuvius, nor the Sirens, nor Sorrento, nor Tasso, nor Virgil, 
nor stately Ischia, nor all the broad blue beauty of Naples bay, was the 
theme of that singing. But partly it sang of a river forever flowing, and of 
cloudless skies, and green fields that never faded, and the mournful music of 
water-wheels, and the wild monotony of a tropical life, — and partly of the yel- 
low silence of the desert and of drear solitudes inaccessible, and of wandering 
caravans* and lonely men. 

Then it sang of gardens overhanging rivers that roll gorgeous-shored through 
western fancies of gardens in Bagdad watered by the Euphrates and the Tigris 
whereof it was the fringe and darling ornament, of oases in those sere sad deserts, 
where it over-fountained fountains, and every leaf was blessed; more than all, 
it sang of the great Orient universally, where no other tree was so abundant, so 
loved, and so beautiful. 

Palm branches were strewn before Jesus as he rode into Jerusalem, and for- 
ever, since, the palm symbolizes peace. Wherever a grove of palms waves in 
the low moonlight or starlight wind, it is the celestial choir chanting "peace on 
earth, good will to men." Therefore it is the foliage of the old religious pictures. 
Mary sits under a palm, and the saints converse under palms, and the prophets 
prophesy in their shade, and cherubs float with palms over the martyr's agon)^. 
Nor among pictures is there 3115- more beautiful than Corregio's " Flight into 
Egypt," wherein the golden-haired angels put aside the palm branches, and smile 
sunnily through upon the lovely mother and the lovely child. 

The palm is the chief tree in religious remembrance and religious art. It is 
the chief tree in romance and poetry. But its sentiment is always eastern, and 
it always yearns for the east. In the west it is an exile, and pines in the most 
sheltered gardens. Yet of all western shores it is the happiest in Sicily; for 
Sicily is only a bit of Africa drifted westward. There is a soft southern strain 
in the Sicilian skies, and the palms drink its sunshine like dew. Upon the 
tropical plain behind Palermo, among the sun-sucking aloes, and the thick, 
shapeless cactuses, like elephants and rhinoceroses enchanted into foliage, it 
grows ever gladly. For the aloe is of the east, and the prickly pear ; and upon 
the Sicilian plain the Saracens have been, and the palm sees the Arabian arch, 
and the oriental sign-manual stamped upon the land. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



215 



But the palms are not only poets, they are prophets as well. They are like 
heralds sent forth upon the farthest points to celebrate to the traveler the glor- 
ies they show. Like spring birds, they sing a summer unfading, and climes 
where time wears the year as a queen a rosary of diamonds. The mariner, 
eastward sailing, hears tidings from the chance palms that hang along the 
southern Italian shore. They call out to him across the gleaming calm of a 
Mediterranean noon, "Thou happy mariner, our souls sail with thee." 

In the land of Egypt palms are perpetual. They are the only foliage of the 
Nile, for we will not harm the modesty of a few mimosas and sycamores by 
foolish claims. They are the shade of the mud villages, marking their site in 
the landscape, so that the groups of palms are the number of the villages. They 
fringe the shore and the horizon. The sun sets golden behind them, and birds 
sit swinging upon their boughs and float glorious among their trunks; the 
sugar cane is not harmed by the ghostly shade ; and the yellow flowers of the 
cotton plant star its dusk at evening. The children play under them, and the 
old men crone and smoke, the donkeys graze, and there the surly bison and 
the conceited camels repose. 

The eye never wearies of palms, more than the ear of singing birds. Solitary 
they stand upon the sand, or upon the level fertile land in groups, with a grace 
and dignity that no tree surpasses. Very soon the eye beholds, in their forms, 
the original type of the columns which it will afterwards admire in the temples. 
Almost the first palm is architecturally suggestive, even in western gardens — 
but to artists living among them and seeing only them ! Men's hands are not 
delicate in the early ages, and the fountain fairness of the palms is not very 
flowingly fashioned in the capitals; but in the flowery perfection of the Par- 
thenon the palm triumphs. The forms of those columns came -from Egypt, and 
that which was the suspicion of the earlier workers, was the success of more 
delicate designing. So is the palm inwound with our art, and poetry, and 
religion. George William Curtis. 



FOREST FLOWERS. 

OUR forests are fast disappearing. In their sheltering shade and the rich 
mould of their annually decaying leaves, the greater number of our love- 
liest plants are found; and when the axe comes, that cruel weapon that wars 
upon nature's freshness, and the noble oak, the elm, the beech, the maple, and 
the tulip tree fall with a loud crash in the peaceful so'litude, even the very 
birds can understand that a floral death knell sounds through the melodious 
wilderness. 

A number of our choicest plants are threatened with extinction; for as the woods 
are cleared away these tender offsprings, the pretty flowers which we so dearly 
cherish, will perish utterly. It is, therefore, well to prevent as far as possible 
the .destruction of our native forests, as well as to plant forest trees if for no 
ether purpose than the preservation of the little helpless, blooming beauties 
that adorn our woodland shades. 

Gustavus Frankenstein. 



2 j 5 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



A SERMON FROM A THORN-APPLE TREE. 

**T WANT to tell you about my thorn-apple tree. It came up by the gate, 
where it gets the drip from the watering-trough ; that's what made it grow 
so strong and handsome. Every year it is just as full of blossoms as the apple 
trees, and you know what it bears — little red seed}- berries, good for noth- 
ing at all, so I used to think. But the first spring after I was sick, when I was 
thinking how pretty it was — all blown out, and the green leaves peeping 
through the white — it just came to me that the thorn-apple was doing what it 
was made for exactly, the same as the russet trees and the pippins ; and I took 
notice, as I never did before, how the squirrels came to eat the seeds in the fall, 
and h ow the blue-jays and the winter-birds seemed always to find something 
there for a breakfast, and I came to love that thorn-apple and enjoy it more 
than any thing else. It always seemed to have some lesson for me. I call it my 
preacher, and whenever I look at it I think the Lord wants thorn-apples as well 
as pippins. He sets a good many of His children to feeding birds and squirrels, 
and doing little things that nobody takes any note of, and I'm thankful ever)'' 
day that He lets me grow the blossoms, and feed His birds. Perhaps that is all 
He may want of you, Ruby, but don't you be troubled about that. 'Abide in 
Him,' as the branch abideth in the vine, and He'll see to the fruit. It will be 
just the kind He wants you to bear." 

From Emily Huntington Miller's " Thorn-Apple" 



THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. 

I WANDERED lonely where the pine trees mads 
Against the bitter East their barricade, 
And, guided by its sweet 
Perfume, I found, within a narrow dell, 
The trailing spring flower tinted like a shell 
Amid dry leaves and mosses at my feet. 

From under dead boughs, for whose loss the pines 
Moaned ceaseless overhead, the blossoming vines 

Lifted their glad surprise, 
While yet the bluebird smoothed in leafless trees 
His feathers ruffled by the chill sea-breeze, 

And snow-drifts lingered under April skies. 

As, pausing, o'er the loneiy flower i oent, 

I thought of lives thus slowly, clogged and pent, 

Which ) r et find room 
Through care and cumber; coldness and decay, 
To lend a sweetness to the ungenial day, 

And make the sad earth happier for their bloom. 

Whittier. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 I J 



THE HISTORIC TREE OF CHICAGO. 

AT the Arbor Day exercises held in April by the Illinois Chautauqua Union, 
a paper was read by a member of the Lakeside Circle, entitled ''A Voice 
from the Historic Tree of Chicago." Through the kindness of the writer this 
article has been given to the Local History column and from it we take a few 
items : 

In the middle of Eighteenth street, between Prairie avenue and the lake, 
stands a large cotton-wood tree ; it is the last of a group which marked the spot 
where the Indian massacre of 1812 took place. Fort Dearborn stood at the 
mouth of Chicago river, about one and one-half miles from the clump of trees. 
It was in command of Captain Heald. In August an army of Indians attacked 
the fort, and the garrison being weak, the commandant offered to surrender on 
condition that the force might withdraw without molestation. At nine o'clock 
on August 15, the party, composed of about seventy-five persons, advanced 
from the fort along the Indian trail which follows the lake shore. Captain 
Wells who had come to the assistance of Captain Heald, led the line. The 
women were on horseback, and the children in a wagon. They had reached 
the present location of Fourteenth street when the six hundred Pottawatamie 
Indians who had volunteered to escort them safely to Fort Wayne struck out 
toward the prairie, and, concealed by a range of sand hills which separated the 
prairie from the lake, hurried forward and placed an ambuscade for the troops. 
When the little band had reached the cotton-wood tree, a volley was showered 
by the Indians. The officers, men, and even the women fought for their lives ; 
but what could seventj r -five whites (some of whom had been on the sick list) 
do against six hundred savages ? The entire party of children, twelve in num- 
ber, were tomahawked and scalped. Captain Wells was slain ; in an hour only 
twenty-five of the party remained alive, and Captain Heald surrendered on con- 
dition that the lives of the remnant be spared. The only wounded spared were 
Captain Heald and Lieutenant Helm and their wives. Fifty-two dead bodies 
of the whites were left on the ground. In 1816 when the fort was rebuilt and 
the troops returned, the bones were collected and buried. 

Chautauqiian, November, 18S8. 







LITTLE THINGS. 

FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 

LITTLE flowers, you love me so, O little moss, observed hy few, 
You could not do without me ; That round the tree is creeping, 



O little birds that come and go, You like my head to rest on you, 

You sing sweet songs about me ; While I am idly sleeping. 



Go forth under the open sky, and list 

To Nature's teaching. Bryant's Thanatopsis. 



2 j g ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPARE THE TREES. 

ALAS, in how many places is the forest which once lent us shade, nothing 
more than a memory. The grave and noble circle which adorned the 
mountain is every day contracting. Where you come in hope of seeing life, 
you find but the image of death. O, who will really undertake the defense of 
the trees, and rescue them from senseless destruction ? Who will eloquently 
set forth their manifold mission, and their active and incessant assistance in the 
regulation of the laws which rule our globe ? Without them, it seems delivered 
over to blind destiny, which will involve it again into chaos. The motive 
powers and purificators of the atmosphere through the respiration of their foli- 
age, avaricious collectors to the advantage of future ages of the solar heat, it is 
they which pacify the storm and avert its most disastrous consequences. In 
the low-lying plains, which have no outlet for their waters, the trees, long be- 
fore the advent of man, drained the soil by their roots, forcing the stagnant 
waters to descend and construct at a lower depth their useful reservoirs. And 
now, on the abrupt declivities, they consolidate the crumbling soil, check and 
break the torrent, control the melting of the snows, and preserve to the 
meadows the fertile humidity which in due time will overspread them with a 
sea of flowers. And is not this enough ? To watch over the life of the plant 
and its general harmony, is it not to watch over the safety of humanity? The 
tree, again, was created for the nurture of man, to assist him in his industries 
and his arts. It is owing to the tree, to its soul, earth buried for so many cen- 
turies, and now restored to light, that we have secured the wings of the steam 
engine. Thank heaven for the trees! With my feeble voice I claim for them 
the gratitude of man. Madame Michelet. 



SPRING-TIME IS COMING. 

THE spring-time is coming, the winter is past; 
The flowers are waking at last, at last. 
Awake, little sleepers, from forest and field 
Oh, sweet is the joy that to us you yield. 

The birds sing out from each tree and bush ; 
The violets listen with a sweet fragrant hush. 
Oh, every thing that's sleeping still awake, awake 
To life and spring-time awake. 



For when the world was new, the race that broke 
Unfathered, from the soil or opening oak, 
Lived most unlike the men of later times. 

Juvenal. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



2I 9 



THE ROBIN. 



MY old Welch neighbor over the way- 
Crept slowly out in the sun of spring, 
Pushed from her ears the locks of grav, 
And listened to hear the robin sing. 



Her grandson, playing at marbles, stopped, 

And cruel in sport as boys will be, 
Tossed a stone at the bird, who hopped 

From bough to bough in the apple tree. 

' Nay ! " said the grandmother; " have you not heard, 

My poor, bad boy ! of the fiery pit, 
And how. drop by drop, this merciful bird 
Carries the water that quenches it ? 

' He brings cool dew in his little bill, 

And lets it fall on the souls of sin ; 
You can see the mark on his red breast still ' 
Of fires that scorch as he drops it in. 

; My poor bron rhuddyn ! my breast-burned bird, 

Singing so sweetly from limb to limb, 
Very dear to the heart of our Lord 

Is he who pities the lost like him ! " 

' Amen ! " I said to the beautiful myth ; 

" Sing, bird of God, in my heart as well ; 
Each good thought is a drOp wherewith 
To cool and lessen the fires of hell. 

Prayers of love like rain drops fall, 

Tears of pity are cooling dew, 
And dear to the heart of our Lord are all 

Who suffer like Him in the good they do ! 



Whittier. 



The sounding cataract 
Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
The mountain and the deep and gloomy wood, 
Their colors and their forms, were then to me 
An appetite. 

Wordsworth's Tzntern Abbey. 



220 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE STORY OF "HIAWATHA." 

TRACED BY TREES AND SUNG BY BIRDS. 
Arranged for the " Arbor Day Manual." 

IN dedicating a tree to the memory of Longfellow, this " story " may be arranged for 
an entire class or grade. It is especially appropriate for high school and academic 
grades, in cities and villages where but a single tree is to be planted by the class. 

introduction. Listen to these wild traditions, 

Should you ask me, whence these stories? To this Song of Hiawatha ! 

Whence these legends and traditions, 
With the odors of the forest, 
With the dew and damp of meadows, 
With the curling smoke of wigwams, 
With the rushing of great rivers, 
With their frequent repetitions, 
And their wild reverberations, 
As of thunder in the mountains? 

I should answer, I should tell you, 
" From the forests and the prairies." 
***** 

Should you ask where Nawadaha 



THE PEACE PIPE. 

From the red stone of the quarry 
With his hand he broke a fragment, 
Moulded it into a pipe head, 
Shaped and fashioned it with figures; 
From the margin of the river 
Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, 
With its dark green leaves upon it; 
Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
With the bark of the red willow; 
Breathed upon the neighboring forest, 
Found these songs, so wild and wayward, Made its great boughs chafe together, 



Found these legends and traditions, 
I should answer, I should tell you, 

" In the birds'-nests of the forest, 
In the lodges of the beaver, 
In the hoof-ppints of the bison, 
In the eyry of the eagle ! 



Till in flame they burst and kindled; 
And erect upon the mountains, 
Gitchie Manito, the mighty. 
Smoked the calumet, the Peace Pipe, 
As a signal to the nations. 



" In the Vale of Tawasentha, 

In the green and silent valley, 

By the pleasant water-courses, 

Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. 

Round about the Indian village 

Spread the meadows and the cornfields, 

And beyond them stood the forest, 

Stood the groves of singing pine trees, 

Green in summer, white in winter, 

Ever sighing, ever singing. 

* * * * * 

Ye who love the haunts of nature, 
Love the sunshine of the meadow, 
Love the shadow of the forest, 
Love the wind among the branches, 
And the rain-shower and the snow-storm, 
And the rushing of great rivers 
Through their palisades of pine trees, 
And the thunder in the mountains, 
Whose innumerable echoes 
Flap like eagles in their eyries: 



THE EAST WIND. 

Lonely in the sky was Wabun; 
Though the birds sang gayly to him, 
Though the wild flowers of the meadow 
Filled the air with odors for him, 
Though the forests and the rivers 
Sang and shouted at his coming, 
Still his heart was sad within him, 
For he was alone in heaven. 

But one morning, gazing earthward, 
While the village still was sleeping, 
And the fog lay on the river, 
Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, 
He beheld a maiden walking 
All alone upon a meadow, 
Gathering water-flags and rushes 
By a river in the meadow, 

Ever)' morning, gazing earthward, 
Still the first thing he beheld there 
Was her blue eyes looking at him, 
Two blue lakes among the rushes. 



ARBOR DA Y MAX UAL. 



221 



THE NORTH WIND. 

But the fierce Kabibonokka 
Had his dwelling among icebergs, 
In the everlasting snow-drifts, 
In the kingdom of Wabasso, 
In the land of the White Rabbit. 
He it was whose hand in autumn 
Painted all the trees with scarlet, 
Stained the leaves with red and yellow; 
He it was who sent the snow-flakes, 
Sifting, hissing through the forest, 
Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers, 
Drove the loon and sea-gull southward, 
Drove the cormorant and curlew 
To their nests of sedge and sea-tang 
In the realms of Shawondasee. 

Hiawatha's childhood. 

By the shores of Gitchie Gumee 

By the shining Big-Sea- Water, 

Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, 

Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. 

Dark behind it rose the forest, 

Rose the black and gloomy pine trees, 

Rose the firs with cones upon them: 

Bright before it beat the water, 

Beat the clear and sunny water, 

Beat the shining Big-Sea- Water. 

***** 

At the door on summer evenings 
Sat the little Hiawatha; 
Heard the whispering of the pine trees, 
Heard the lapping of the water, 
Sounds of music, words of wonder; 
" Minne-wawa ! " said the pine trees, 
,' Mudway-aushka! " said the water. 

Then Iagoo the great boaster, 
He the marvelous story-teller, 
He the traveler and the talker 
He the friend of old Nokomis, 
Made a bow for Hiawatha; 
From a branch of ash he made it, 
From an oak bough made the arrows, 
Tipped with flint, and winged with teamen, 
And the chord he made of deer-skin. 

Then he said to Hiawatha: 
" Go my son, into the forest, 
Where the red deer herd together, 
Kill for us a famous roe buck, 



Kill for us a deer with antlers ! " 

Forth into the forest straightway 
All alone walked Hiawatha 
Proudly, with his bow and arrows; 
And the birds sang round him, o'er him, 
" Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! " 
Sang the robin, the Opeechee, 
Sang the bluebird the Owaissa, 
" Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! " 

Up the oak tree, close beside him, 
Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
In and out among the branches, 
Coughed and chattered from the oak irfc^. 
Laughed, and said between his laughing, 
" Do not shoot me, Hiawatha ! " 

And the -.'aboil from his pathway 
Leaped aside, and at a distance 
Sat erect u^jou his haunches, 
Half \r, f.-ai- and half in frolic, 
Sayicg to the little hunter, 
" J jo not shoot me, Hiawatha ! " 

But he heeded not, nor heard them, 
£^v his thoughts were with the red deer. 



AFTER THE BATTLE WITH MUDJEKEEWIS. 
The Meeting with " Laughing- Water.' 

Homeward now went Hiawatha; 
feasant was the landscape round him, 
Pleasant was the air above him, 
For the bitterness of anger 
Had departed wholly from him, 
From his brain the thought of vengeance, 
From his heart the burning fever. 

Only once his pace he slackened, 

-Only once he paused or halted, 

Paused to purchase heads of arrows, 

Of the ancient arrow-maker, 

in the land of the Dacotahs, 

Where the Falls of Minnehaha 

Flash and gleam among the oak trees 

Laugh and leap into the valley. 

***** 

With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter, 
\Vayward as the Minnehaha, 
With her moods of shade and sunshine, 
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate, 
Feet as rapid as the river, 
Tresses flowing like the water, 
And as musical a laughter; 



222 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



And he named her from the river, 
From the waterfall he named her, 
Minnehaha, Laughing-Water. 
* # * * * 

hiawatha's fasting. 
You shall hear how Hiawatha 
Prayed and fasted in the forest, 
Not for greater skill in hunting, 
Not for greater craft in fishing, 
Not for triumphs in the battle 
And renown among the warriors, 
But for profit of the people, 
For advantage of the nations. 



THE MAIZE. 
After wrestling with Mondamin, 

Homeward then went Hiawatha 
To the lodge of old Nokomis, 
And the seven days of his fasting 
Were accomplished and completed. 
But the place was not forgotten 
Where he wrestled with Mondamin; 
Nor forgotten nor neglected 
Was the grave where lay Mondamin. 
Sleeping in the rain and sunshine, 
Where his scattered plumes and garments 
Faded in the rain and sunshine, 

Day by day did Hiawatha 
Go to wait and watch beside it; 
Kept the dark mould soft above it, 
Kept it clean from weeds and insects, 
Drove awaj', with scoffs and shoutings 
Kahgahgee, the king of ravens, 

Till at length a small green feather 
From the earth shot slowly upward, 
Then another, and another, 
And before the summer ended 
Stood the maize in all its beauty, 
With its shining robes about it, 
And its long soft yellow tresses; 
And in rapture Hiawatha 
Cried aloud, "It is Mondamin ! 
Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin ! " 

Then he called to old Nokomis 
And Iagoo the great boaster, 
Showed them where the maize was growing 
Told them of his wondrous, vision, 
Of his wrestling and his triumph, 
Of this new gift to the nations. 
Which should be their food forever. 



THE SWEET SINGER. 

Most beloved by Hiawatha 
Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
He the best of all musicians, 
He the sweetest of all singers. 
Beautiful and childlike was he, 
Brave as man is, soft as woman, 
Pliant as a wand of willow, 
Stately as a deer with antlers. 

When he sang, the village listened; 
All the warriors gathered round him; 
All the women came to hear him; 
Now he stirred their souls to passion, 
Now he melted them to pity. 

From the hollow reeds he fashioned 
Flutes so musical and mellow, 
That the brook, the Sebowisha, 
Ceased to murmur in the woodland, 
That the wood-birds ceased from singing, 
And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Ceased his chatter in the oak tree, 
And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 
Sat upright to look and listen. 

Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, 
Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach my waves to flow in music, 
Softly as your words in singing ! " 

Yes, the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
Envious said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as wild and wayward, 
Teach me songs as full of frenzy ! " 

Yes, the robin, the Opeechee, 
Joyous said, " O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as sweet and tender, 
Teach me songs as full of gladness ! " 

And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, 
Sobbing, said, " O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as melancholy, 
Teach me songs as full of sadness ! " 

All the many sounds of nature 
Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 
All the hearts of men were softened 
By the pathos of his music; 
For he sang of peace and freedom, 
Sang of beauty, love and longing; 
Sang of death and life undying 
In the Islands of the Blessed, 
In the kingdom of Ponemah 
In the land of the Hereafter. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



223 



KWASIND. 

" Lazy Kwasind ' " said his mother 

" In my work you never help me ! 

In the summer you are«roaming 

Idly in the fields and forests." 

***** 

" Lazy Kwasind ! " said his father, 

" In the hunt you never help me; 

Every bow you touch is broken, 

Snapped asunder every arrow; 

Yet come with me to the forest, 

You shall bring the hunting homeward." 

Down a narrow pass they wandered, 
Where a brooklet led them onward, 
Where the trail of deer and bison 
Marked the soft mud on the margin, 
Till they found all further passage 
Shut against them, barred securely 
By the trunks of trees uprooted, 
Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise 
And forbidding further passage. 

" We must go back," said the old man 
" O'er these logs we cannot clamber; 
Not a woodchuck could get through them, 
Not a squirrel clamber o'er them ! " 
And straightway his pipe he lighted, 
And sat down to smoke and ponder. 
But before his pipe was finished, 
Lo ! the path was cleared before him; 
All the trunks had Kwasind lifted, 
To the right hand, to the left hand, 
Shot the pine trees swift as arrows, 
Hurled the cedars light as lances. 



HIAWATHA S SAILING. 
Bziilding Hie Birch Canoe. 

" Give me of your bark, O birch tree ! 
Of your yellow bark, O birch tree ! 
Growing by the rushing river, 
Tall and stately in the valley ! 
I a light canoe will build me, 
Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, 
Thou shalt float upon the river, 
Like a yellow leaf in autumn, 
Like a yellow water lily ! 

" Lay aside your cloak, O birch tree ! 
Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, 
For the summer time is coming, 



And the sun is warm in heaven, 
And you need no white-skin wrapper ! " 
Thus aloud cried Hiawatha 

In the solitary forest. 

***** 

And the tree with all its branches 
Rustled in the breeze of morning, 
Saying with a sigh of patience, 
" Take my cloak, O Hiawatha ! " 

With his knife the tree he girdled; 
Just beneath its lowest branches, 
Just above the roots he cut it, 
Till the sap came oozing outward ; 
Down the trunk, from top to bottom, 
Sheer he cleft the bark asunder, 
With a wooden wedge he raised it, 
Stripped it from the trunk unbroken. 

" Give me of your boughs, O Cedar ! 
Of your strong and pliant branches, 
My canoe to make more steady, 
Make more strong and firm beneath me! " 
, Through the summit of the Cedar 

Went a sound, a cry of horror, 
Went a murmur of resistance , 
But it whispered, bending downward, 
" Take my boughs, O Hiawatha! " 

Down he hewed the boughs of Cedar, 
Shaped them straightway to a framework, 
Like two bows he formed and shaped them, 
Like two bended bows together. 

" Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! 
Of your fibrous roots, O Larch tree! 
My canoe to bind together, 
So to bind the ends together 
That the water may not enter, 
That the river may not wet me! " 

And the Larch, with all its fibres, 
Shivered in the air of morning, 
Touched his forehead with its tassels, 
Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, 
"Take them all, O Hiawatha! " 

From the earth he tore the fibres, 
Tore the tough roots of the Larch tree, 
Closely sewed the bark together, 
Bound it closely to the framework. 

" Give me of your balm, O Fir tree! 
Of your balsam and your resin, 
So to close the seams together 
That the water may not enter, 



224 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



That the river may not wet me! " 

And the Fir tree tall and sombre, 
Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, 
Rattled like a shore with pebbles, 
Answered wailing, answered weeping, 
" Take my balm, O, Hiawatha! " 

And he took the tears of balsam, 
Took the resin of the Fir tree, 
Smeared therewith each seam and fissure, 

Made each crevice safe from water. 

***** 

Thus the Birch Canoe was builded 
In the valley, by the river, 
In the bosom of the forest ; 
And the forest's life was in it, 
All its mystery and its magic, 
All the lightness of the birch tree, 
All the toughness of the cedar, 
All the larch's supple sinews; 
And it floated on the river 
Like a jellow leaf in autumn, 
Like a yellow water-lily. 

HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL FEATHER. 
The Battle with Megissog-won. — The Woodpecker, 
Then began the greatest battle 
That the sun had ever looked on, 

That the war-birds ever witnessed. 

***** 

Till at sunset Hiawatha 
Leaning on his bow of ash tree, 
Wounded, weary, and desponding, 
With his mighty war-club broken, 
With his mittens torn and tattered, 
And three useless arrows only, 
Paused to rest beneath a pine tree, 
From whose branches trailed the mosses, 
And whose trunk was coated over 
With the Dead-man's Moccasin-leather, 

With the fungus white and yellow. 
Suddenly from the boughs above him 
Sang the Ma'ma, the woodpecker : 
"Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, 
At the head of Megissog'won, 
Strike the tuft of hair upon it, 
At their roots the long black tresses ; 
There alone can he be wounded! " 

Swift flew Hiawatha's arrow, 



Swifter flew the second arrow, 
***** 

But the third and latest arrow 

Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest. 

***** 

At the feet of Hiawatha 
Lifeless lay the great Pearl-feather, 
Lay the mightiest of Magicians. 
Then the grateful Hiawatha 
Called the Ma'ma, the woodpecker, 
From his perch among the branches 
Of the melancholy pine tree, 
And, in honor of his service, 
Stained with blood the tuft of feathers 
On the little head of Ma'ma ; 
Even to this da)' he wears it, 
Wears the tuft of crimson feathers, 
As a symbol of his service. 

HIAWATHA'S WOOING. 

Thus departed Hiawatha 
To the land of the Dacotahs, 
To the land of handsome women ; 
Striding over moor and meadow, 
Through interminable forests, 
Through uninterrupted silence. 

With his moccasins of magic, 
At each stride a mile he measured; 
Yet the way seemed long before him, 
And his heart outrun his footsteps; 
And he journeyed without resting, 
Till he heard the cataract's laughter, 
Heard the falls of Minnehaha 
Calling to him through the silence. 

***** 

She was thinking of a hunter, 
From another tribe and country, 
Young and tall and very handsome, 
Who, one morning, in the Spring-time, 
Came to buy her father's arrows, 
Sat and rested in the wigwam, 
Lingered long about the doorway, 
Looking back as he departed. 

***** 

Would he come again for arrows 
To the Falls of Minnehaha ? 
On the mat her hands lay idle, 
And her eyes were very dreamy. [step, 

Through their thoughts they heard a foot- 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



225 



Heard a rustling in the branches, 
And with glowing cheek and forehead, 
With the deer upon his shoulders, 
Suddenly from out the woodlands 
Hiawatha stood before them. 

* # # # # 

Thus continued Hiawatha, 

And then added, speaking slowly, 

" That this peace may last forever, 

And our hands be clasped more closely, 

And our hearts be more united, 

Give me as my wife this maiden, 

Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 

Loveliest of Dacotah women! " 

***** 

And the lovely Laughing Water 
Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, 
Neither willing or reluctant, 
As she went to Hiawatha, 
Softly took the seat beside him, 
While she said, and blushed to say it, 
" I will follow you my husband!" 

***** 

Pleasant was the journey homeward, 
Through interminable forests, 
Over meadow, over mountain, 
Over river, hill and hollow. 



All the spoons of horn of bison, 
Black and polished very smoothly. 

She had sent through all the village 
Messengers with wands of willow, 
As a sign of invitation 
As a token of the feasting. 

THE TRANSFORMATION OF OSSEO. 

lagoons Story. 

" Hear the story of Osseo. 

***** 

In the Northland lived a hunter 
With ten young and comely daughters 
Tall and lithe as wands of willow; 
Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
She the wilful and the wayward, 
She the silent dreamy maiden, 
Was the fairest of the sisters. 

"All these women married warriors, 
Married brave and haughty husbands ; 
Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
Laughed and flouted all her lovers. 
All her young and handsome suitors 
And then married old Osseo. 

***** 

"Ah, but beautiful within him 
Was the spirit of Osseo. 



Over wide and rushing rivers 
In his arms he bore the maiden; 
Light he thought her as a feather, 
As the plume upon his head-gear; 
Cleared the tangled pathway for her, 
Bent aside the swaying branches, 
Made at night a lodge of branches, 
And a bed with boughs of hemlock, 
And a fire before the doorway 
With the dry cones of the pine tree. 



" Once to some great feast invited, 
Through the damp and dusk of evening 
Walked together the ten sisters, 
Walked together with their husbands; 
Slowly followed old Osseo, 
With fair Oweenee beside him; 
All the others chatted gayly, 
These two only walked in silence. 

" At the western sky Osseo 
Gazed intent as if imploring, 



Thus it was that Hiawatha 

To the lodge of old Nokomis 

Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight. 

Brought the sunshine of his people. 



"And they heard him murmur softly, 
" ' Pity, pity me, my father ! ' 

" ' Listen ! ' said the eldest sister, 
' He is praying to his father ! ' 



THE WEDDING FEAST. 

Sumptuous was the feast of Nokomis 
Made at Hiawatha's wedding; 
All the bowls were made of bass wood, 
White and polished very smoothly, 
15 



"And they laughed till all the forest 
Rang with their unseemly laughter. 

" On their pathway through the wood- 
lands 
La} r an oak by storms uprooted, 



226 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Lay the great trunk of an oak tree, 

Buried half in leaves and mosses, 

Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow. 

And Osseo, when he saw it, 

Gave a shout, a cry of anguish, 

Leaped into its yawning cavern, 

At one end went in an old man, 

Wasted, wrinkled, old and ugly, 

From the other came a young man, 

Tall and straight and strong and handsome, 

" Thus Osseo was transfigured, 
Thus restored to youth and beauty." 



Heard them laughing like the blue jays, 
Heard them singing like the robins. 

And whene'er some lucky maiden 
Found a red ear in the husking, 
Found a maize-ear red as blood is, 
" Nushka ! " cried they altogether, 
" Nushka ! you shall have a sweetheart, 
You shall have a handsome husband ! " 
" Ugh ! " the old men all responded, 
From their seats beneath the pine trees. 



BLESSING THE CORN FIELDS. 

Once when all the maize was planted, 
Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful, 
Spake and said to Minnehaha, 
To his wife, the Laughing Water : 
" You shall bless to-night the corn-fields, 
Draw a magic circle round them, 
To protect them from destruction." 

* * * # * 

On the tree-tops near the corn-fields 
Sat the hungry crows and ravens, 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
With his band of black marauders, 
And they laughed at Hiawatha, 
Till the tree-tops shook with laughter, 
With their melancholy laughter, 
At the words of Hiawatha. 

***** 

And the merry Laughing Water 
Went rejoicing from the wigwam, 
With Nokomis, old and wrinkled, 
And the}' called the women round them, 
Called the young men and the maidens, 
To the harvest of the corn-fields, 
To the husking of the maize-ear. 
On the border of the forest, 
Underneath the fragrant pine trees, 
Sat the old men and the warriors 
Smoking in the pleasant shadow. 
In uninterrupted silence 
Looked the)' at the gamesome labor 
Of the young men and the women; 
Listened to their noisy talking. 
To their laughter and their singing, 
Heard them chattering like the magpies, 



PICTURE WRITING. 

And the last of all the figures 
Was a heart within a circle, 
Drawn within a magic circle; 
And the image had this meaning; 
" Naked lies your heart before me, 
To your naked heart I whisper ! " 

Thus it was that Hiawatha, 
In his wisdom taught the people 
All the mysteries of painting, 
All the art of picture writing, 
On tfye smooth bark of the birch tree, 
On the white skin of the reindeer, 
On the grave-posts of the village. 

hiawatha's lamentation. 

Death of Chibiabos. 

Once when Peboan, the winter, 

Roofed with ice the Big- Sea-Water, 

When the snow-flakes, whirling dow'nward, 

Hissed among the withered oak-leaves, 

Changed the pine trees into wigwams, 

Covered all the earth with silence, — 

Armed with arrows, shod with snow-shoes, 

Heeding not his brother's warning, 

Fearing not the Evil Spirits, 

Forth to hunt the deer with antlers 

All alone went Chibiabos. 

***** 

But beneath, the Evil Spirits, 
Lay in ambush, waiting for him, 
Broke the treacherous ice beneath him, 
Dragged him downward to the bottom, 
***** 

Drowned him in the deep abysses 
Of the lake of Gitchie Gumee. 
From the headlands Hiawatha 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



227 



Sent forth such a wail of anguish, 
Such a fearful lamentation, 
That the bison paused to listen, 
And the wolves howled from the prairies. 
* * * * # 

" He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
He the sweetest of all singers ! 
He has gone from us forever, 
He has moved a little nearer 
To the Master of all music, 
To the Master of all singing ! 
O my brother, Chibiabos !" 

And the melancholy fir trees 
Waved their dark green fans above him, 
Waved their purple cones above him, 
Sighing with him to console him, 
Mingling with his lamentation 
Their complaining, their lamenting. 

Came the spring, and all the forest 
Looked in vain for Chibiabos; 
Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, 
Sighed the rushes in the meadow. 

From the tree-tops sang the bluebird, 
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
" Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
He is dead the sweet musician !" 

From the wigwam sang the robin, 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
"Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
He is dead, the sweetest singer ! " 

And at night through all the forest 
Went the whippoorwill complaining, 
Wailing went the Wawanaissa, 
"Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
He the sweetest of all singers ! " 

PAU-PUK-KEEWIS. 

Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Whistling, singing through the forest, 
Whistling gayly to the squirrels, 
Who from hollow boughs above him 
Dropped their acorn shells upon him, 
Singing gayly to the wood-birds, 
Who from out the leafy darkness 
Answered with a song as merry. 



Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Glide into the soft blue shadow 
Of the pine trees of the forest; 
Toward the squares of white beyond it, 
Toward an opening in the forest, 
Like a wind it rushed and panted, 
Bending all the boughs before it, 
And behind it, as the rain comes, 
Came the steps of Hiawatha. 

***** 

And so near he came, so near him, 
That his hand was stretched to seize him, 
His right hand to seize and hold him, 
When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Whirled and spun about in circles, 
Fanned the air into a whirlwind, 
Danced the dust and leaves about him, 
And amid the whirling eddies 
Sprang into a hollow oak tree, 
Changed himself into a serpent, 
Gliding out through root and rubbish. 

With his right hand Hiawatha 
Smote amain the hollow oak tree, 
Rent it into shreds and splinters, 
Left it lying there in fragments. 
But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Once again in human figure, 
Full in sight ran on before him, 
Sped away in gust and whirlwind. 

THE DEATH OF KWASIND. 

Now this wondrous strength of Kwasind 
In his crown alone was seated; 
In his crown too was his weakness; 
There alone could he be wounded, 
Nowhere else could weapon pierce him, 
Nowhere else could weapon harm him. 

Even there the only weapon 
That could wound him, that could slay him, 
Was the seed-cone of the pine-tree, 
Was the blue-cone of the fir tree. 
This was Kwasind's fatal secret, 
Known to no man among mortals; 
But the cunning Little People, 
The Puk-Wudjies, knew the secret, 
Knew the only way to kill him. 



THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS. 

But the wary Hiawatha 
the figure ere it vanished, 



At the first blow of their war clubs, 
Fell a drowsiness on Kwasind; 
At the second blow they smote him, 



228 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Motionless his paddle rested; 
At the third, before his vision 
Reeled the landscape into darkness, 
Very sound asleep was Kwasind. 
So he floated down the river, 
Like a blind man seated upright, 
Floated down the Taquamenaw, 
Underneath the trembling birch trees, 
Underneath the wooded headlands, 
Underneath the war encampment 
Of the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies. 

There they stood, all armed and wait- 
ing 
Hurled the pine-cones down upon him, 
Struck him on his brawny shoulders, 
On his crown defenseless struck him. 
•' Death to Kwasind ! " was the sudden 
War-cry of the Little People. 

And he sideways swayed and tumbled 
Sideways fell into the river; 
Plunged beneath the sluggish water 
Headlong as an otter plunges; 
And the birch canoe, abandoned, 
Drifted empty down the river, 
Bottom upward swerved and drifted: 
Nothing more was seen of Kwasind. 

But the memory of the Strong Man 
Lingered long among the people, 
And whenever through the forest 
Raged and roared the wintry tempest, 
And the branches, tossed and troubled, 
Creaked and groaned and split asunder, 
" Kwasind!" cried they; " that is Kwasind 
He is gathering in his fire-wood ! " 

THE GHOSTS. 

Not a motion made Nokomis, 

Not a gesture Laughing Water; 

Not a change came o'er their features; 

Only Minnehaha softly 

Whispered, saying, " They are famished; 

Let them do what best delights them; 

Let them eat, for they are famished." 

Many a daylight dawned and dark- 
ened, 
Many a night shook off the daylight 
As the pine shakes off the snowflakes 
From the midnight of its branches; 
Day by day the guests unmoving 
Sat there silent in the wigwam; 
But by night, in storm or starlight, 



Forth they went into the forest, 
Bringing fire-wood to the wigwam, 
Bringing pine-cones for the burning, 
Always sad and always silent. 



THE FAMINE. 

Forth into the empty forest 

Rushed the maddened Hiawatha; 

In his heart was deadly sorrow, 

In his face a stony firmness; 

On his brow the sweat of anguish 

Started, but it froze and fell not. 

Wrapped in furs and armed for hunting, 

With his mighty bow of ash tree, 

With his quiver full of arrows, 

With his mittens, Miniekahwun, 

Into the vast and vacant forest 
, On his snow-shoes strode he forward. 
" Gitche Manito, the Mighty!" 

Cried he with his face uplifted 

In that bitter hour of anguish, 

" Give your children food, O father! 

Give us food, or we must perish! 

Give me food for Minnehaha, 

For my dying Minnehaha! " 

Through the far resounding forest, 

Through the forest vast and vacant 

Rang that cry of desolation, 

But there came no other answer 

Than the echo of his crying, 

Than the echo of the woodlands, 
! "Minnehaha! Minnehaha!" 

DEATH OF MINNEHAHA. 

In the wigwam with Nokomis, 
With those gloomy guests, that watched her, 
With the Famine and the Fever, 
She was lying, the Beloved, 
She the dying Minnehaha. 

" Hark ! " she said ; " I hear a rushing,, 

Hear a roaring and a rushing, 

Hear the Falls of Minnehaha 

Calling to me from a distance! " 

"No, my child!" said old Nokomis, 

" 'Tis the night-wind in the pine trees! " 
***** 

Homeward hurried Hiawatha, 
***** 

And he rushed into the wigwam, 
Saw the old Nokomis slowly 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



229 



Rocking to and fro and moaning, 

Saw his lovely Minnehaha 

Lying dead and cold before him, 

And his bursting heart within him 

Uttered such a cry of anguish, 

That the forest mDaned and shuddered, 

That the very stars in heaven 

Shook and trembled with his anguish. 

***** 

Then the)' buried Minnehaha; 
In the show a grave the)- made her, 
In the forest deep and darksome, 
Underneath the moaning hemlocks; 
Clothed her in her richest garments, 
Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, 
Covered her with snow, like ermine; 
Thus they buried Minnehaha. 

WHITE MAN'S FOOT. 

In bis lodge beside a river, 
Close beside a frozen river, 
Sat an old man, sad and lonely. 

***** 

All the coals were white with ashes, 
And the fire was slowly dying, 
As a young man, walking lightly, 
At the open doorway entered. 
Red with blood of youth his cheeks were, 
Soft his eyes, as stars in Spring-time, 
Bound his forehead was with grasses, 
Bound and plumed with scented grasses! 
On his lips a smile of beauty, 
Filling all the lodge with sunshine, 
In his hand a bunch of blossoms 
Filling all the lodge with sweetness. 
***** 

From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe, 
Very old and strangely fashioned; 
Made of red stone was the pipe-head, 
And the stem a reed with feathers; 
Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
Placed a burning coal upon it, 
Gave it to his guest, the stranger, 
And began to speak in this wise: 

" When I blow my breath about me, 
When I breathe upon the landscape, 
Motionless are all the rivers, 
Hard as stone becomes the water!" 

And the young man answered, smiling 



" When I blow my breath about me, 
When I breathe upon the landscape, 
Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows, 
Singing, onward rush the rivers!" 

" When I shake my hoary tresses," 
Said the old man, darkly frowning, 
" All the land with snow is covered; 
All the leaves from all the branches 
Fall and fade and die and wither, 
For I breathe, and lo! they are not. 
From the waters and the marshes 
Rise the wild goose and the heron, 
Fly away to distant regions, 
For I speak, and lo! they are not. 
And where'er my footsteps wander, 
All the wild beasts of the forest 
Hide themselves in holes and caverns, 
And the earth becomes as flintstone! " 

" When I shake my flowing ringlets," 
Said the young man, softly laughing, 
" Showers of rain fall warm and welcome, 
Plants lift up their heads rejoicing, 
Back unto their lakes and marshes 
Come the wild goose and the heron, 
Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow, 
Sing the bluebird and the robin, 
And where'er my footsteps wander, 
All the meadows wave with blossoms, 
All the woodlands ring with music, 
All the trees are dark with foliage! " 

Then the old man's tongue was speechless 
And the air grew warm and pleasant, 
And upon the wigwam sweetly 
Sang the bluebird and the robin, 
And the stream began to murmur, 
And a scent of growing grasses 
Through the lodge was gently wafted. 

And Segwun, the youthful stranger 
More distinctly in the daylight 
Saw the icy face before him; 
It was Peboan, the Winter! 

From his eyes the tears were flowing, 
As from melting lakes the streamlets, 
And his body shrunk and dwindled 
As the shouting sun ascended, 
Till into the air it faded, 
Till into the ground it vanished, 
And the young man saw before him, 
On the hearth-stone of the wigwam, 



230 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Where the fire had smoked and smouldered, 
Saw t the earliest flower of Spring-time. 
***** 

Thus it was that in the North-land 
After that unheard-of coldness, 
That intolerable Winter, 
Came the Spring with all its splendor, 
All its birds and all its blossoms, 
All its flowers and leaves and grasses. 

"Gitche Manito the Mighty, 
The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
Sends them hither on his errand, 
Sends them to us with his message. 
Whereso'er they move, before them 
Swarms the stinging-fly, the Ahmo. 
Swarms the bee, the honey-maker; 



Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them 
Springs a flower unknown among us, 
Spring the White-man's Foot in blossom. 

FAREWELL TO HIAWATHA. 

And they said. " Farewell forever!" 
Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the forests, dark and lonely, 
Moved through all their depths of darkness, 
Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the waves upon the margin 
Rising, rippling on the pebbles, 
Sobbed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From her haunts among the fen-lands, 
Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 

Longfellow. 



THE VIOLET. 



VIOLET! sweet violet! 
Thine eyes are full of tears; 
Are the}' wet 
Even yet 
With the thought of other years? 
Or with gladness are they full, 
For the night so beautiful, 
And longing for those far-off spheres ? 



Out on it! no foolish pining 

For the sky 

Dims thine eye, 
Or for the stars so calmly shining; 
Like thee let this soul of mine 
Take hue from that wherefor I long, 
Self-stayed and high, serene and strong, 
Not satisfied with hoping — but divine. 



Thy little heart, that hath with love 
Grown colored like the sky above, 
On which thou lookest ever, — 

Can it know 

All the woe 
Of hope for what returneth never, 
All the sorrow and the longing 
To these hearts of ours belonging ? 



Violet! dear violet! 
Thy blue eyes are only wet 
With joy and love of Him who sent thee, 
And for the fulfilling sense 
Of that glad obedience 
Which made thee all that Nature meant 
thee. 

Lowell. 



THE FIR TREE. 

HARK, hark! What does the Fir tree say? Creak, creak! Listen! " Be firm, be true, 
Standing still all night, all day — The winter's frost and the summer's dew 

Never a moan from over his way. Are all in God's time, and all for you. 

Green through all the winter's gray — Only live your life, and your duty do, 

What does the steadfast Fir tree say ? And be brave, and strong, steadfast and true." 
Chautauquan, March, 1884. Luella Clark. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 ^ I 



Written for the "Ardor Day Manual." 

A HOME BY THE WARM SOUTHERN SEA.* 

OH, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
Where the playful waves bring a kind respite to me, 
And from New Year's till March the jessamine bloom 
Fills the eye with its beauty, and the air with perfume; 
While I almost can hear the tinkle and swell 
Of the dear little yellow jessamine bell, 
As it swings on its vine from the top of a tree, 
And exultantly shakes its bright petals at me. 

Oh, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
Where the Cherokee rose climbs the palmetto tree, 
And sweetly peeps forth through perennial green 
Bedecking the months 'twixt the fair jessamine 
And the magnolia grand, the queen of the May, 
The tree of the Southland, the pride of the day, 
The fountain of odors which scatter and fill 
The fair summer flowers, and sweet daffodil. 

Oh, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
Where the jubilant sunbeams dance o'er the lea, 
Where with oars idly dropped, I float with the tides, 
Or rest in wild hammocks which nature provides; 
While vines, creeping vines, come forth in an hour, 
And noiselessly twine me a summerland bower ; 
Then opening soft eyes, speaking love and good will, 
They twine and keep twining unweariedly still. 

Oh, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
Where lilies hang drooping from shrub and from tree. 
Where fruits in all seasons hang luscious and rare, 
Where from May to December the soft, balmy air 
Brings a lazy delight to my soul as I lie 
And list to the mocking-bird's twitter and cry ; 
Till catching a glimpse of the gay holly tree 
As it shakes its bright berries in radiant glee, 
I am minded that Christmas, glad Christmas is near, 
And that I have been dreaming for nearly a year. 
St Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 



No tree in all the grove but has its charms 

Though each its hue peculiar. Cowper. 



*Editor Arbor Day Manual — Please accept this little offering as a kindly link in the great chain of 
earnest effort which now connects the educational interests of the two halves of our one vast whole— our 
Union. • The Author. 



212 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



AL FRESCO. 



THE dandelions and buttercups 
Gild all the lawn; the drowsy bee 
Stumbles among the clover tops, 
And summer sweetens all but me: 
Away, unfruitful lore of books, 
For whose vain idiom we reject 
The soul's more native dialect, 
Aliens among the birds and brooks, 
Dull to interpret or conceive 
What gospels lost the woods retrieve ! 
Away, ye critics, city-bred, 
Who set man-traps of thus and so. 
And in the first man's footsteps tread, 
Like those who toil through drifted snow ! 
Away, my poets, whose sweet spell 
Can make a garden of a cell 
I need ye not, for I to-day 
Will make one long sweet verse of play. 

Snap, chord of manhood's tenser strain 
To-dav I will be a boy again; 
The mind's pursuing element, 
Like a bow slackened and unbent, 
In some dark corner shall be leant. 
The robin sings, as of old, from the limb ! 
The cat-bird croons in the lilac bush 
Through the dim arbor, himself more dim. 
Silently hops the hermit-thrush, 
The withered leaves keep dumb for him; 
The irreverent buccaneering bee 
Hath stormed and rifled the nunnery 
Of the lily, and scattered the sacred floor 
With haste-dropt gold from shrine to door; 
There, as of yore, 
The rich, milk-tingeing buttercup 
Its tiny polished urn holds up, 
Filled with ripe summer to the edge, 
The sun in his own wine to pledge; 
And our tall elm, this hundredth year 
Doge of our leafy Venice here, 



Who, with an annual ring, doth wed 
The blue Adriatic overhead. 
Shadows with his palatial mass 
The deep canals of flowing grass. 

O unestranged birds and bees ! 
O face of nature always true ! 
O never-unsympathizing trees ! 

never-rejecting roof of blue, 
Whose rash disherison never falrfe 
On us unthinking prodigals, 

Yet who convictest all our ills, 
So grand and unappeasable ! 
Methinks my heart from each of these 
Plucks part of childhood back again, 
Long there imprisoned, as the breeze 
Doth ever}' hidden odor seize 
Of wood and water, hill and plain; 
Once more am I admitted peer 
! In the upper house of nature here, 
And feel through all nry pulses run 
The royal blood of breeze and sun. 

Upon these elm-arched solitudes 
No hum of neighbor toil intrudes; 
The only hammer that I hear 
Is wielded by the woodpecker. 
The single noisy calling his 
In all our leaf-hid Sybaris; 
The good old time, close-hidden here, 
Persists, a loyal cavalier, 
While Roundheads prim, with point of fox, 
Probe wainscot-chink and empty box; 
Here no hoarse-voice iconoclast 
Insults thy statues, royal Past; 
M3'self too prone the axe to wield, 

1 touch the silver side of the shield 

With lance reversed, and challenge peace, 
A willing convert of the trees. 

***** 

Lowell. 






The earth 
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill; 
Jovous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs 
Whispered it to the woods. 

Milton's Paradise Lost. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



2 33 



FLOWERS OF THE MAY. 

A CALLER ! Who is it ? "In nosegays you've bound them; 

To make me a visit, I'll guess where you found them: 

Here comes little Milly ! ■ These buds on the bough 

How are vou to-day? Of the apple tree grew; 

And, pray, let me ask it, And under the shadow 

What is in your basket ? Of ferns in the meadow 

Ah ! now I can see; You gathered these violets, 

It is flowers of the May. Tender and blue. 

" Your flower-bed, I fancy, 
Has given this pansy; 

And close by the road 
Grew these buttercups wild. 
O, flowers of the Ma)', love, 
Are sweet in their way, love; 

But sweeter by far 
Is a good little child. " 



SUNSHINE. 



T 



HE fitful April sunshine She makes the lowliest hovels, 

Is welcome after rain; Like palaces of gold, 



She fills the earth with beauty, Her hands are full of blessings, 
And lights it up again; More full than they can held: 

Her golden wand uplifted There's not a person sees her, 
Sends raindrops scattering far, But brighter grows his face, 

And flowers spring to greet her, There is no guest so cheery 
Each shining like a star. In every gloomy place. 



There is a serene and settled majesty in wood land scenery that enters into 
the soul, and delights and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations. 

As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air 
and to breathe forth a purer atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from 
us all sordid and angry passions, and breathe forth peace and philanthropy. 

There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of 
forest trees. It argues, I think, a sweet and generous nature to have this 
strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship for the hardy 
and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought connected with 
this part of rural economy. It is, if I may be allowed the figure, the heroic line 
of husbandry. It is worthy of liberal, and free-born, and aspiring men. He 
who plants an oak, looks forward- to future ages, and plants for posterity. 
Nothing can be less selfish than this. 

Irving. 



234 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE FIRST FLOWERS. 



FOR ages on our river borders, 
These tassels in their tawny bloom, 
And willowy studs of downy silver, 

Have prophesied of spring to come. 



But never yet from smiling river, 
Or song of early bird, have they 

Been greeted with a gladder welcome 
Than whispers from my heart to-day. 



For ages have the unbound waters The}' break the spell of cold and darkness, 

Smiled on them from their pebbly hem, The weary watch of sleepless pain; 

And the clear carol of the robin And from my heart as from the river, 

And song of bluebird welcomed them. The ice of winter melts again. 

Whittier. 



HYMN. 

(For the American Horticultural Society, 1882.) 

PAINTER of the fruits and flowers, But blest by Thee, our patient toil 
We own Thy wise design, May right the ancient wrong, 

Whereby these human hands of ours And give to every clime and soil 
May share the work of Thine ! The beauty lost so long. 



Apart from Thee we plant in vain 
The root and sow the seed; 

Thy early and Thy later rain, 
Thy sun and dew we need. 

Our toil is sweet with thankfulness, 

Our burden is our boon; 
The curse of earth's gray morning is 

The blessing of its noon. 

Why search the wide world everywhere 
For Eden's unknown ground ? 

That garden of the primal pair 
May nevermore be found. 



Our homestead flowers and fruited trees 

May Eden's orchard shame; 
We taste the tempting sweets of these 
Like Eve, without her blame. 

And, north and south and east and west 

The pride of every zone, 
The fairest, rarest and the best 

May all be made our own. 

Its earliest shrines the young world sought- 
In hill-groves and in bowers, 

The fittest offerings thither brought 
Were Thy own fruits and flowers. 



And still with reverent hands we cull 
Thy gifts each year renewed; 

The good is always beautiful. 
The beautiful is good. 



Whittier. 



There never yet was flower fair in vain, 

Let classic poets rhyme it as they will; 

The seasons toil that it may blow again, 

And summer's heart doth feel its every ill. 



Lowell. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 



235 



LINES. 

(For the Agricultural and Horticultural Exhibition at Amesbury and Salisbury, Sept. 28, 1858.) 



THIS day, two hundred years ago, 
The wild grape by the river's side, 
And tasteless groundnut trailing low, 
The table of the woods supplied. 

Unknown the apple's red and gold, 

The blushing tint of peach and pear; 

The mirror of the Powow told 

No tale of orchards ripe and rare. 

Wild as the fruits he scorned to till, 
These vales the idle Indian trod; 

Nor knew the glad creative skill, 

The joy of him who toils with God. 

O painter of the fruits and flowers ! 

We thank thee for Thy wise design 
Whereby these human hands of ours 

In nature's garden work with Thine. 



And thanks that from our daily need 
The joy of simple faith is born; 

That he who smites the summer weed, 
May trust Thee for the autumn corn. 

Give fools their gold and knaves their power . 

Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; 
Who sows a field or trains a flower, 

Or plants a tree is more than all. 

For he who blesses most is blest; 

And God and man shall own his worth 
Who toils to leave as his bequest 

An added beauty to the earth. 

And, soon or late, to all that sow, 

The time of harvest shall be given; 

The flower shall bloom, the fruit shall grow. 
If not on earth, at last in heaven. 

Whittier. 



THE OAKS. 



HA ! ha ! we've stemm'd the stream, 
A thousand years along 
Thy stormy course, O time ! 
Sometimes in lightning's gleam, 
And the water's rousing song, 
And thunder crash sublime. 
From memory long have faded, 
The nations of our childhood, 
And all the works of man, 
In dust have laid, while we, 
Exulting toss our crown, 
Of branches, hale and free. 
We've seen the gentle child at play, 
The maiden fair, the lover gay, 
And oft they sought, at evening hour, 
Our cool, leafy bower. 



And conq'ring armies, on their way, 

Have paused beneath the arches gray; 

And age, with slow and faltering tread, 

Hath sought and blest the peaceful shade; 

O, many an army o.i its way, 

Hath paused beneath our arches gray. 

And aye, with slow and faltering tread, 

Hath sought, hath blest the grateful shade; 

Then let the world roll, 

No power shall control 

Our song of a thousand years, 

We'll join when wintry tempests blow, 

And generations yet shall know 

The mighty song, amid thy stormy course, 

O time, our mighty song. 

J. C. Johnson. 



Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
A sylvan scene ! and as the ranks ascend, 
Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
Of stateliest view. 



Milton. 



2^6 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE BLUSHING MAPLE TREE. 



WHEN on the world's first harvest da)', 
The forest trees before the Lord 
Laid down their autumn offerings 

Of fruit in sunshine stored, 
The maple only, of them all, 

Before the world's great harvest King, 
With empty hands and silent stood — 

She had no offering to bring; 
For in the early summer time, 

While other trees laid by their hoard, 
The maple winged her fruit with love, 

And sent it daily to the Lord. 



There ran through all the leafy wood 

A murmur and a scornful smile, 
But silent still the maple stood, 

And looked to God the while. 
And then, while fell on earth a hush, 

So great it seemed like death to be, 
From His white throne the mighty Lord 

Stooped down and kissed the maple tree; 
At that swift kiss there sudden thrilled, 

In every nerve, thro' ever} - vein, 
An ecstacy of joy so great 

It seemed almost akin to pain. 



A^id there before the forest trees, 

Blushing and pale by turns she stood; 
In ev'ry leaf, now red and gold, 

She knew the kiss of God. 
And still, when comes the autumn time, 

And on the hills the harvest lies, 
Blushing, the maple tree recalls 

Her life's one beautiful surprise. 



A DREAM OF SUMMER. 



BLAND as the morning breath of June, 
The south-west breezes play; 
And, through its haze, the winter noon 

Seems warm as summer's day. 
The snow-plumed angel of the north 

Has dropped his icy spear; 
Again the messy earth looks forth, 
Again the streams gush clear. 



So, in those winters of the soul, 

By bitter blasts and drear, 
O'erswept from memory's frozen pole, 

Will sunny days appear. 
Reviving hope and faith, they show 

The soul its living powers, 
And how beneath the winter's snow 

Lie germs of summer flowers ! 



The fox his hillside cell forsakes, 
The muskrat leaves his nook, 
The bluebird in the meadow brakes 
Is singing with the brook. 
: Bear up, O Mother Nature ! " cry 

Bird, breeze, and streamlet free; 
1 Our winter voices prophesy 

Of summer days to thee ! " 



The night is mother of the day, 

The winter of the spring. 
And ever upon old decay 

The greenest mosses cling. 
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, 

Through showers the sunbeams fall; 
For God, who loveth all His works, 

Has left His hope with all. 

Whittier. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



M 



AN INVITATION TO THE COUNTRY. 

ALREADY, close by our summer dwelling, 
The Easter sparrow repeats her song ; 
A merry warbler, she chides the blossoms — 
The idle blossoms that sleep so long. 

The bluebird chants, from the elm's long branches, 

A hymn to welcome the budding year. 
The south wind wanders from field to forest, 

And softly whispers, "The spring is here." 
Come, daughter mine, from the gloomy city, 

Before those lays from the elm have ceased ; 
The violet breathes, bjr our door, as sweetly 

As in the air of her native east. 

Though many a flower in the wood is waking, 
The daffodil is our doorside queen; 

She pushes upward the sward already, 

To spot with sunshine the early green. 

No lays so joyous as these are warbled 

From wiry prison in maiden's bower; 
No pampered bloom of the green-house chamber 

Has half the charm of the lawn's first flower. 
Yet these sweet sounds of the early season, 

And these fair sights of its sunny days, 
Are only sweet when we fondly listen, 

And only fair when we fondly gaze. 



Bryant. 



THE TREE. 

1 love thee when thy swelling buds appear, 

And one by one their tender leaves unfold, 

As if they knew that warmer suns were near, 

Nor longer sought to hide from winter's cold ; 

And when with darker growth thy leaves are seen 

To veil from view the early robin's nest, 

I love to lie beneath thy waving screen, 

With limbs by summer's heat and toil oppress'd; 

And when the autumn winds have stript thee bare, 

And round thee lies the smooth, untrodden snow, 

When naught is thine that made thee once so fair, 

I love to watch thy shadowy form below, 

And through thy leafless arms to look above 

On stars that brighter beam when most we need their love. 

Jones Very. 



238 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



w 



UNDER THE OLD ELM. 

r ORDS pass as wind, but when great deeds were done 
A power abides transfused from sire to son ; 
The boy feels deeper meanings thrill his ear, 
That tingling through his pulse life-long shall run, 
With sure impulsion to keep honor clear, 
When, pointing down, his father whispers, '' Here, 
Here, where we stand, stood he, the purely Great, 
Whose soul no siren passion could unsphere, 
Then nameless, now a power and mixed with fate." 
Historic town, thou holdest sacred dust, 
Once known to men as pious, learned, just, 
And one memorial pile that dares to last ; 
But Memory greets with reverential kiss 
No spot in all thy circuit sweet as this, 
Touched by that modest glory as it past, 
O'er which yon elm hath piously displayed 
These hundred years its monumental shade. 

Of our swift passage through this scenery 

Of life and death, more durable than we, 

What landmark so congenial as a tree 

Repeating its green legend every spring, 

And, with a yearly ring, 

Recording the fair seasons as they flee, 

Type of our brief but still-renewed mortality? 



Beneath our consecrated elm 

A century ago he stood, 

Famed vaguely for that old fight in the wopd 

Whose red surge sought, but could not overwhelm 

The life fore-doomed to wield our rough-hewn helm ! — 

From colleges, where now the gown 

To arms hath yielded, from the town, 

Our rude self-summoned levies flocked to see 

The new-come chiefs and wonder which was he. 

No need to question long ; close-lipped and tall, 

Long-trained in murder-brooding forests lone 

To bridle other's clamors and his own, 

Firmly erect, he towered above them all, 

The incarnate discipline that was to free 

With iron curb that armed democracy. 

Lowell's Cambridge Elm. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 239 



APRIL. 

"TMS the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird 
1 In the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard ; 
For green-meadow grasses wide levels of snow, 
And blowing of drifts where the crocus should blow; 
Where wind-flower and violet, amber and white, 
On south-sloping brooksides should smile in the light, 
O'er the cold winter-beds of their late-waking roots 
The frosty flake eddies, the ice-crystal shoots ; 
And, longing for light, under wind-driven heaps, 
Round the boles of the pine wood the ground-laurel creeps, 
Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers, 
With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers ! 
We wait for thy coming, sweet wind of the south ! 
For the touch of thy light wings, the kiss of thy mouth ; 
For the yearly evangel thou bearest from God, 
Resurrection and life to the graves of the sod ! 
Up our long river-valley, for days, have not ceased 
The wail and the shriek of the bitter north-east, — 
Raw and chill, as if winnowed through ices and snow, 
All the way from the land of the wild Esquimau, — 
Until all our dreams of the land of the blest 
Like that red hunter's, turn to the sunny south-west. 
O soul of the spring-time, its light and its breath, 
Bring warmth to this coldness, bring life to this death ; 
Renew the great miracle; let us behold 
The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre rolled, 
And Nature, like Lazarus, rise, as of old ! 
Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain, 
Revive with the warmth and the brightness again, 
And in blooming of flowers and budding of tree 
The symbols and types of our destiny see ; 
The life of the spring-time, the life of the whole, 
And, as sun to the sleeping earth, love to the soul ! 

Whittier. 



I thank heaven every summer's day of my life that my lot was humbly cast 
within the hearing of romping brooks, and beneath the shadow of oaks, and 
away from all the tramp and bustle of the world, into which fortune has led me in 
these latter years of my life. I delight to steal away for days and for weeks to- 
gether, and bathe my spirit in the freedom of the old woods, and to grow young 
again lying upon the brookside, and counting the white clouds that sail along 
the sky, softly and tranquilly, even as holy memories go stealing over the vault 
of life. Donald G. Mitchell. 



240 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. 

IS this a time to be cloudy and sad. 
When our mother nature laughs around; 
When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? 

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; 

The ground squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 

The clouds are at play in the azure space 

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale. 
And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 

And there they roll on the easy gale. 

There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, 
There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, 

There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, 
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 



And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 

On the leaping waters and gay young isles ; 
Ay, look, and he'll smile the gloom away. 



Bryant. 



'Tis sweet, in the green spring, 
To gaze upon the wakening fields around ; 

Birds in the thicket sing. 
Winds whisper, waters prattle from the ground. 

A thousand odors rise, 
Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dyes. 



Shadowy, and close and cool, 
The pine and poplar keep their quiet nook ; 

Forever fresh and full, 
Shines, at their feet, the thirst-inviting brook; 

And the soft herbage seems 
Spread for a place of banquets and of dreams. 



From the Spanish of Villegas. 



Bryant. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 24 1 



M 



UNDER THE WILLOWS. 



AY is a pious fraud of the almanac, 
A ghastly parody of real spring 
Shaped out of snow and breathed with eastern wind ; 
Or if, o'er-confident, she trust the date, 
And, with her handful of anemones, 
Herself as shiver)', steal into the sun, 
The season need but turn his hour-glass round, 
And winter suddenly, like crazy Lear, 
Reels back, and brings the dead May in his arms, 
Her budding breasts and wan dislustred front 
With frosty streaks and drifts of his white beard 
All overblown. Then warmly walled with books, 
While my wood fire supplies the sun's defect, 
Whispering old forest-sagas in its dreams, 
I take my May down from the happy shelf 
Where perch the world's rare song-birds in a row, 
Waiting my choice to open with full breast, 
And beg an alms of spring-time, ne'er denied 
Indoors by vernal Chaucer, whose fresh woods 
Throb thick with merle and mavis all the year. 

Jul)' breathes hot, sallows the crispy fields, 
Curls up the wan leaves of the lilac-hedge, 
And every eve cheats us with show of clouds 
That braze the horizon's western rim, or hang 
Motionless, with heaped canvas drooping idly, 
Like a dim fleet by starving men besieged, 
Conjectured half, and half described afar, 
Helpless of wind, and seeming to slip back 
Adown the smooth curve of the oil)'' sea. 

But June is full of invitations sweet, 

Forth from the chimney's yawn and thrice-read tomes 

To leisurely delights and sauntering thoughts 

That brook no ceiling narrower than the blue. 

The cherry, drest for bridal, at my pane 

Brushes, then listens, Will he come ? 

The bee, 
All dusty as a miller, takes his toll 
Of powdery gold and grumbles. What a day 
To sun me and do nothing! Nay, I think 
Merely to bask and ripen is sometimes 
The student's wiser business ; the brain 
That forages all climes to line its cells, 
16 



242 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Ranging both worlds on lightest wings of wish, 
Will not distill the juices it has sucked 
To the sweet substance of pellucid thought, 
Except for him who hath the secret learned 
To mix his blood with sunshine, and to take 
The winds into his pulses. Hush ! 'tis he ! 
My oriole, my glance of summer fire, 
Is come at last, and, ever on the watch, 
Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound 
About the bough to help his housekeeping, — 
Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck, 
Yet fearing me who laid it in his way, 
Nor, more than wiser we in our affairs, 
Divines the providence, that hides and helps. 
Heave, ho ! Heave, ho ! he whistles as the twine 
Slackens its hold ; once more, now ! and a flash 
Lightens across the sunlight to the elm 
Where his mate dangles at her cup of felt. 
Nor all his booty is the thread ; he trails 
My loosened thought with it along the air, 
And I must follow, would I ever find 
The inward rhyme to all this wealth of life. 

****** 

I care not how men trace their ancestry, 
To ape or Adam ; let them please their whim ; 
But I in June are midway to believe 
A tree among my far progenitors, 
Such sympathy is mine with all the race, 
Such mutual recognition vaguely sweet 
There is between us. Surely there are times 
When they consent to own me of their kin, 
And condescend to me, and call me cousin, 
Murmuring faint lullabies of eldest time, 
Forgotten, and yet dumbly felt with thrills 
Moving the lips, though fruitless of the words. 

And I have many a lifelong leafy friend, 
Never estranged nor careful of my soul, 
That knows I hate the axe, and welcomes me 
Within his tent as if I were a bird. 

****** 

Among them one, an ancient willow, spreads 
Eight balanced limbs, springing at once all round 
His deep-ridged trunk with upward slant diverse, 
In outline like enormous beaker, fit 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



243 



For hand of Jotun, where mid snow and mist 
He holds unwieldy revel. 

****** 

The friend of all the winds, wide-armed he towers 
And glints his steely aglets in the sun. 

***** anc j 1 

Will hold it true that in this willow dwells 
The open-handed spirit, frank and blithe, 
Of ancient Hospitality, long since 
With ceremonious thrift bowed out of doors. 

In June 't is good to lie beneath a tree 
While the blithe season comforts every sense, 
Steeps all the brain in rest, and heals the heart 
Brimming it o'er with sweetness unawares, 
Fragrant and silent as that rosy snow 
Wherewith the pitying apple-tree fills up 
And tenderly lines some last-year robin's nest. 
****** 

Each year to ancient friendships adds a ring, 
As to an oak, and precious more and more, 
Without deservingness or help of ours, 
They grow, and, silent, wider spread, each year, 
Their unbought ring of shelter or of shade. 
Sacred to me the lichens on the bark, 
While Nature's milliners would scrape away; 
Most dear, and sacred every withered limb ! 
'T 's good to set them early, for our faith 
Pines as we age, and, after wrinkles come, 
Few plant, but water dead ones with vain tears. 

This willow is as old to me as life ; 

And under it full often have I stretched, 

Feeling the warm earth like a thing alive, 

And gathering virtue in at every pore 

Till it possessed me wholly, and thought ceased, 

Or was transfused in something to which thought 

Is coarse and dull of sense. Myself was lost, 

Gone from me like an ache, and what remained 

Became a part of the universal joy. 

My soul went forth, and, mingling with the tree, 

Danced in the leaves; or floating in the cloud, 

Saw its white double in the stream below. 

****** 



Lowell. 



244 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



TO THE DANDELION. 

DEAR common flower, that grow'st beside the way, 
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold 
First pledge of blithesome Ma)', 

Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold, 
High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they 
An Eldorado in the grass have found, 
Which not the rich earth's ample round 
May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me 
Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be. 

Gold such as thine ne'er drew the Spanish prow 
Through the primeval hush of Indian seas, 

Nor wrinkled the lean brow 

Of age, to rob the lover's heart of ease ; 

Tis the Spring's largess, which she scatters now 

To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand, 

Though most hearts never understand 

To take it at God's value, but pass by 

The offered wealth with unrewarded eye. 

Thou art my tropics and mine Italy ; 

To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime ; 
The eyes thou givest me 

Are in the heart, and heed not space or time : 
Not in mid June the golden-cuirassed bee 
Feels a more summer-like warm ravishment 
In the white lily's breezy tent, 
His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first 
From the dark green thy yellow circles burst. 

Then think I of deep shadows on the grass, 
Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze, 

Where, as the breezes pass, 

The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways, 

Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass, 

Or whiten in the wind, of waters blue 

That from the distance sparkle through 

Some woodland gap, and of a sky above, 

Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. 

My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee; 

The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, 
Who, from the dark old tree 

Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, 
And I, secure in childish piety, 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



245 



Listened as if I heard an angel sing 

With news from heaven, which he could bring 

Fresh every day to my untainted ears 

When birds and flowers and I were happy peers. 

How like a prodigal doth nature seem, 

When thou, for all thy gold, so common art ! 
Thou teachest me to deem 

More sacredly of every human heart, 
Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam 
Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show, 

Did we but pay the love we owe, 
And with a child's undoubting wisdom look 
On all these living pages of God's book. 



Lowell. 



TREES IN THE CITY. 

"T^IS beautiful to see a forest stand, 

1 Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the pride 
Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland 

Comes with a kiss, as lover to his bride ; 
To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams 

Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, 
Where sombre pines rise o'er the shadowy gleams 

Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. 

But they who dwell beside the stream and hill 

Prize little treasures there so kindly given : 
The song of birds, the babbling of the rill, 

The pure unclouded light and air of heaven. 
They walk as those who seeing, cannot see, 

Blind to this beauty even from their birth : 
We value little blessings ever free : 

We covet most the rarest things of earth. 

But rising from the dust of busy streets 

These forest children gladden many hearts ; 
As some old friend their welcome presence greets 
The toil-worn soul, and fresher life imparts. 
Their shade is doubly grateful when it lies 

Above the glare which stifling walls throw back ; 
Through quivering leaves we see the soft blue skies, 
Then happier tread the dull, unvaried track. 

Alice B. Neal. 



246 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD. 

STRANGER, if thou hast learned a truth which needs 
No school of long experience, that the world 
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen 
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, 
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood 
And view the haunts of nature. The calm shade 
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze 
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm 
To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here 
Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men, 
And made thee loath thy life. The primal curse 
Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, 
But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt, 
Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades 
Are still the abodes of gladness ; the thick roof 
Of green and stirring branches is alive • 
And musical with birds, that sing and sport 
In wantonness of spirit; while below 
The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, 
Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade 
Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam 
That waked them into life. Even the green trees 
Partake the deep contentment ; as they bend 
To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky 
Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. 

* * * * * Bryant. 



I sit where the leaves of the maple, 

And the gnarl'd and knotted gum, 
Are circling and drifting around me, 

And think of the time to come. 

For the human heart is the mirror 

Of the things that are near and far ; 
Like the wave that reflects in its bosom 

The flower and the distant star. 

Alice Cary, The Time to Be. 



Earth's tall sons, the cedar, oak and pine, 
Their parent's undecaying strength declare. 

Sir R. Blackmore. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



247 



A FOREST SCENE. 

I KNOW a forest vast and old, 
A shade so rich, so darkly green, 
That morning sends her shaft of gold 
In vain to pierce its leafy screen ; 
I know a brake where sleeps the fawn, 

The soft-eyed fawn, through noon's repose 
For noon with all the calm of dawn 

Lies hush'd beneath those dewy boughs. 

Oh, proudly then the forest kings 

Their banners lift o'er vale and mount; 
And cool and fresh the wild grass springs, 

By lonety path, by sylvan fount; 
There, o'er the fair leaf-laden rill, 

The laurel sheds her cluster'd bloom, 
And throned upon the rock-wreathed hill 

The rowan waves his scarlet plume. 



Edith May. 



The forest trees are transient things and frail; 

(So the book told me, ere I closed the page) ; 
Last year the willow leaves were wan and pale ; 

I'll make to their last place a pilgrimage, 

And changed, dead trees shall read a lesson sage 
Of change and death. No paler than before 

I found the willow leaves, nor sign of age 
Within the woods ; immortal green they wore, 
And the strong, mighty roots the giant trunks upbore. 

Sarah S. Jacobs, The Changeless World. 



'Tis merry in greenwood, thus runs the old lay. 
In the gladsome month of lively May, 
When the wild bird's song on stem and spray 

Invites to forest bower; 
Then rears the ash his airy crest 
Then shines the birch in silver vest, 
And the beech in glistening leaves is drest, 
And dark between shows the oak's proud breast, 

Like a chieftain's frowning tower. 

Sir Walter Scott, Harold the Dauntless. 



248 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



TREES OF THE BIBLE. 

NO less than five of the eight zones recognized by geographers are repre- 
sented within the limited area of Palestine. On the snow-capped peaks 
of Lebanon, the climate approaches an Arctic severity, while the lower parts of 
the Jordan valley experience a tropical heat. Between these extremes of tem- 
perature we have the climates of the western coasts, the inland plains and low- 
est hills, the higher uplands and the loftier table lands beyond Jordan. Out of 
this strangely varied climate springs a corresponding complexity in the vege- 
table life of the country. The paper reeds of Egypt, and the palms and 
acacias of the desert are represented equally with the oaks, willows and junipers 
of Europe. On the plains of the coast and the southern highlands, grow the 
Aleppo pine, the myrtle and ilex, the gray olive, and the green arbutus, the 
carob or locust tree, the orange and citron, the vine, the fig tree, and the 
pomegranate. The bay and the oleaster flourish on the hills, and the streams 
are overhung by the roseate blossoms of the oleander. On the rest of the table 
lands, which constitute the greater part of Palestine, both east and west of the 
Jordan, flourish pines and junipers, the terebinth, the almond, apricot, and 
peach, the hawthorn and mountain ash, the ivy and honeysuckle, the wal- 
nut and mulberry; oaks, poplars and willows, the majestic cedars of Lebanon, 
the melancholy cypress, and the plane tree with its wide-spreading shade. In 
the Jordan valley, the date palm flourished, — here grew the acacia and juniper 
of Scripture. 

The slopes of the two ranges of Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, are terraced for 
grain and a variety of fruit trees, ruddy orchards and groves of mulberry, the 
characteristic tree of Lebanon, — oranges, peaches, apricots, plums, cherries 
and almonds thrive at different elevations, according to their several ranges of 
temperature. Here the vine and the pomegranate yield their rich products. 
In the warmer and more sheltered spots, the palm and the olive, the fig and the 
walnut find a congenial home ; green oaks abound higher up on the mountain 
side, and higher still, the pine, cypress and juniper crown the successive zones 
of vegetation with their sombre foliage. On Lebanon, such northern species 
as the mountain ash, the box and the barberry have found a refuge, while 
humbler plants, like the wild rose, geranium and honeysuckle, impart a pleasing 
aspect to the scene. And beside the many " streams from Lebanon," willows 
and poplars, the oriental plane, and the crimson oleander, with a mass of low- 
lier vegetation, flourish as in Bible days. 

Beyond Jordan, pine forests clothe the summits of the highest hills; lower 
down, woods of evergreen oak adorn the park like scenery of ancient Gilead 
and Bashan, and mingled with them the rich foliage of the myrtle, the arbutus, 
and the carob or locust tree, varied with the pink and white blossoms of the 
broom bush. 

The northern portion of Lake Huleh, the Biblical " Waters of Merom," is cov- 
ered by an immense tract of floating thickets of papyrus, and white and yellow 
water lilies adorn the more open portions. A few palm trees grow near the end 
of the lake, and Josepus alludes to these, and to the fact that walnuts, figs and 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



249 



olives flourish in this delightful district, Oleanders fringe the sandy beach at 
Gennesareth, and the grass is gay with flowers of every hue. 

From a country thus rich in diversities of climate, elevation, and natural pro- 
ductions, the sacred writers were led to draw their supplies of imagerv in the 
composition of a world-wide volume which we cherish as the " Book of Books," 
and reverence as the Word of God to Man. 

Scripture Natural History. W. H, GROSER. 



SCRIPTURE SELECTIONS. 

MAY BE ARRANGED FOR A RESPONSIVE SERVICE. 

(Words in parenthesis, Revised Version.) 

genesis. XXX, 37. And Jacob took rods of green 

I, 11. And God said, Let the earth bring poplar and of the hazel, and of the 

forth the fruit tree, yielding fruit after chestnut tree (fresh poplar, and of the 

his kind. almond, and of the plane tree). 

12. And the earth brought forth the tree, XLIII, 11. Israel said, take of the best 



yielding fruit who'se seed was in itself 
after his kind. And God saw that it 
was good. 
29. And God said, Behold I have given 
you every tree in which is the fruit of a 
tree yielding seed; to you it shall be 
for meat. 
II, 8. And the Lord God planted a garden 
eastward in Eden, and there He put the 
man whom he had formed. 



fruits of the land in your vessels, and 
carry down the man a present, a little 
balm, and a little honey, spices, and 
myrrh, nuts and almonds. 

EXODUS. 

XV, 27. And they came to Elim, where 
were twelve wells (springs) of water, 
and three score and ten palm trees; and 
they encamped there by the water. 
9. And out of the ground made the XXV, 10. They shall make an ark of. 

Lord God to grow every tree that is (acacia) wood. 

pleasant to the sight, and good for food; 

the tree of life also in the midst of the numbers. 

garden, and the tree of knowledge of XXIV, 6. As gardens by the river's side, 

as trees of lign aloes which the Lord 
hath planted, and as cedar trees beside 
the waters. 



good and evil. 

VI, 14. Make thee an oak of gopher-wood. 

XVIII, 2, 4, 5, 8. And Abraham looked, 
and lo ! three men stood by him and he 
said, " Rest yourselves under the tree, 



DEUTERONOMY, 



and comfort ye your hearts." And he VIII, 7, 8, 9. For the Lord thy God bring- 



set before them, and he stood by them 
while they did eat. 

XXI, 33. And Abraham planted a grove in 
Beersheba, and called there on the 
name of the Lord, the everlasting 
God. 

XXIII, 17, 18. And the field of Ephron, 
and all the trees that were in the field, 
that were in all the borders round about 
were made sure unto Abraham for a 
possession. 



eth thee into a good land ; a land of 
brooks of water, of fountains and 
depths that spring out of valleys and 
hills ; a land of wheat, and barley, 
and vines, and fig trees, and pome- 
granates ; a land of oil, olive, and 
honey ; a land wherein thou shalt eat 
bread without scarceness, thou shalt 
not lack any thing in it ; a land whose 
stones are iron, and out of whose hills 
thou mayest dig brass. 



250 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



Scripture Selections- -Continued. 
XX, 19. For the tree of the field is man's XXXVII, 35. I have seen the wicked in 

great power, and spreading himself like 



life. 



a green bay tree. 
36. Yet he passed away, and, lo ! he was 

not; yea, I sought him, but he could 

not be found. 
XCII, 12. The righteous shall nourish like 

the palm tree; he shall grow like a 

cedar in Lebanon. 
CIV, 16, 17. The trees of the Lord are full 

of sap; the cedars of Lebanon which he 

hath planted; where the birds make their 

nests; as for the stork, the fir trees are 

her house. 

broughtgoldfromOphir brought in from CXXXVII, 2. We hanged our harps upon 
Ophir great plenty of almug (perhaps the willows in the midst thereof, 

sandal-wood) trees and precious stones. CXLVIII, 9. Mountains and all hills; fruit- 



II SAMUEL. 

V, 24. When thou hearest the sound of a 
going in the tops of the mulberry trees. 

I KINGS. 
IV, 29. And God gave Solomon wisdom and 
understanding exceeding much. 
33. And he spake of trees from the cedar 
tree that is in Lebanon even unto the 
hyssop that springeth out of the wall. 
X, II. And the navy also of Hiram that 



12. And the king made of the almug 
trees pillows for the house of the Lord, 
and for the king's house, harps also, 
and psalteries for singers; there came 
no such almug trees, nor were seen 
unto this day. 

27. Solomon made cedars to be as the 
sycamore trees that are in the vale for 
abundance. 
XIX, 5. He lay and slept under a juniper 
tree. 

I CHRONICLES. 



ful trees, and all cedars. 
13. Let them praise the name of the 
Lord 

proverbs. 
Ill, 18. Wisdom is a tree of life to tnem 

that lay hold upon her; and haoDy is 

every one that retaineth her. 
XI, 30. The fruit of the righteous is a tree 

of life. 
XIII, 12. Hope deferred maketh the heart 

sick; but when the desire cometh, it is 

a tree of life. 



XVI, 33. Then shall the trees of the wood XV, 4. A wholesome tongue is a tree of life, 
sing out at the presence of the Lord. 

ECCLESIASTES. 

II, 5. I made me gardens and orchards, and 
I planted trees in them of all kinds of 
fruits. 



JOB. 

XIV, 7, 8, 9. For there is hope of a tree, if 
it be cut down, that it will sprout again, 



and that the tender branch thereof will XI, 3. If the tree fall toward the south, or 



not cease, though the root thereof wax 
old in the earth; and the stock thereof 
die in the ground; yet through the scent 
of water it will bud and bring forth 
boughs like a plant. 



toward the north, in the place where 
the tree falleth, there shall it be. 



THE SONG OF SOLOMON. 

II, 3. As the apple tree among the trees 
of the wood, so is my beloved among 
the sons. I sat down under his shadow 
with great delight, and his fruit was 
sweet to my taste. 

like a tree planted by the streams of IV, 13. Thy plants are an orchard of pome- 
water that bnngeth its fruit in its sea- granates, with pleasant fruits; 14, with 
son, whose leaf also doth not wither, all trees of frankincense and myrrh 
and whatsoever hedoeth shall prosper. and aloes. 



PSALMS. 

I, 1, 2, 3. Blessed is the man whose delight 
is in the law of the Lord. He shall be 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



251 



Scripture Selections — Continued. 

green, and shall not be careful in the 



VI, 11. I went down into the garden of nuts 
to see the fruits of the valley, and to 
see whether the vine flourished, and 
the pomegranates budded. 

ISAIAH. 

VI, 13. As a teil tree and as an oak whose 

substance is in them when they cast 

their leaves; so the holy seed shall be 

the substance thereof. 
XLI, ig. I will plant in the wilderness the 

cedar (acacia) tree, and the myrtle, and 

the oil tree; I will set in the desert the 

fir tree, and the pine and the box tree 

together. 
XLIV, 4. The)' shall spring up as among 

the grass, as willows by the water 

courses. 
14. He heweth him down cedars, and 

taketh the cypress and the oak, 

which he strengthened for himself 

among the trees of the forest; he 

planteth an ash and the rain doth 

nourish it. 
LV, 12. All the trees of the field shall clap 

their hands; 
13. Instead of the thorn shall come up the 

fir-tree, and instead of the brier shall 

come up the myrtle tree, and it shall be 

to the Lord for a name. 
LX, 13. The glory of Lebanon shall come 

unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree and 

the box together. 
LXI, 3. That the}' might be called trees of 

righteousness, the planting of the Lord, XXXIV, 27. And the tree of the field shall 

that he might be glorified. yield her fruit, and the earth shall yield 

her increase, and they shall be safe in 
jeremiah. their land, and shall know that I am 

I, 11. Moreover the word of the Lord came the Lord. 

unto me, saying Jeremiah, what seest XLVII, 12. And by the river by the bank 



year of drouth, neither shall cease from 
yielding fruit. 

EZEKIEL. 

XXXI, 3. Behold the Assyrian was a cedar 
in Lebanon with fair branches and 
* * * his top was among the thick 
boughs. 

4. The waters made him great, the deep 
set him up on high, with the rivers run- 
ning round about his plants, and sent 
out her little rivers unto all the trees of 
the field. 

5. Therefore his height was exalted above 
all the trees of the field, and his boughs 
were multiplied, and his branches be- 
came long, because of the multitude of 
waters, when he shot forth. 

6. All the fowls of heaven made their 
nests in his boughs. * * * 

7. Thus was he fair in his greatness in the 
length of his branches; for his root was 
by great waters. 

8. The cedars in the garden of God could 
not hide him; the fir trees were not like 
his boughs, and the chestnut trees were 
not like his branches; nor any tree in 
the garden of God was like unto him in 
his beauty. 

9. I have made him fair by the multitude 
of his branches; so that all the trees of 
Eden, that were in the garden of God, 
envied him. 



thou ? And I said, I see a rod of an 
almond tree. 
XVII, 7, 8. Blessed is the man that trusteth 
in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord 
is. For he shall be like a tree, planted 
by the water, and spreadeth out his 
roots by the river, and shall not fear 
when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be 



thereof, on this side and on that side 
shall grow all the trees for meat, whose 
leaf shall not fade, neither shall the 
fruit thereof be consumed : it shall bring 
forth new fruit, according to his months, 
* * * and the fruit thereof shall be 
for meat, and the leaf thereof for medi- 



252 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



HOSEA. 

IV, 13. My people bum incense upon the 
hills, under oaks and poplars, and elms 
because the shadow thereof is good. 

XIV, 6. His branches shall spread, and his 
beauty shall be as the olive tree. 

JOEL. 



Scripture Selections — Continued. 

18. A good tree cannot bring forth evil 
fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring 
forth good fruit. 

19. Every tree that bringeth not forth 
good fruit is hewn down, and cast into 
the fire. 

20. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall 
know them. 



I, 12. The vine is dried up, and the fig tree XII, 33. Either make the tree good, and 



xanguisheth; the pomegranate tree, the 
palm tree also, and the apple tree, even 
all the trees of the field, are withered: 
because joy is withered away from the 
sons of men. 

AMOS. 

II, 9. * * * Whose height was like the 

height of the cedars, and he was strong 
as the oaks. 

ZECHARIAH. 

III, 10. In that day, saith the Lord of hosts, 



his fruit good; or else make the tree 
corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: for the 
tree is known by his fruit. 

REVELATIONS. 

II, 7. * * * To him that overcometh 
will I give to eat of the tree of life, 
which is in the midst of the paradise of 
God. 

XXI, 10. And he carried me away in the 
spirit to a great and high mountain, and 
showed me that great city, the holy 
Jerusalem. * * * 



shall ye call every man his neighbor, XXII, 2. In the midst of the street of it, 



under the vine and under the fig tree. 

MATTHEW. 

VII, 17. Even so every good tree bringeth 
forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree 
bringeth forth evil fruit. 



and on either side of the river, was 
there the tree of life, which bare twelve 
manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit 
every month; and the leaves of the tree 
were for the healing of the nations. 



THE GOLDEN ROD. 

From the souvenir "Our National Flower," by permission of the publishers, Messrs. L. Prang & Co., Boston. 



1AM the rustic golden rod, 
I know not pride nor shy reserve; 
My tasselled plumes so gayly nod 

With freedom's grace in every curve. 

I bloom not when the year is young, 
And growing day by day more fair, 

But when the autumn chill has flung 
A sense of winter on the air. 

Then close beside the dust}' road, 
To cheer the humblest passer-by, 

Or in the fields, by harvest load, 

With lusty courage, up spring I. 



And in my honest gold there shines 

The promise sown in freedom's soil; 

No high or low its law defines, 

But lavish crowns the homeliest toil. 

Then let me be the emblem bright 
Of hope and promise to the free, 

And in my pennons read aright 
The glad fruition that shall be. 

When feudal spring has passed away, 

And monarchs' pomp has fled the earth, 

Then freedom's harvest shall be gay, 

And lowly wayside grace have worth. 
Hopestill Goodwin. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 253 




OF THE BOY THAT STOLE APPLES. 

AN old man found a rude boy upon one of his trees stealing apples, and 
desired him to come down ; but the young sauce-box told him plainly he 
would not. "Won't you?" said the old man, "then I will fetch you down;" so 
he pulled up some turf or grass and threw at him; but this only made the 
youngster laugh, to think the old man should pretend to beat him down from 
the tree with grass only. 

"Well, well," said the old man, "if neither words nor grass will do, I must try 
what virtue there is in stones ; " so the old man pelted him heartily with stones, 
which soon made the young chap hasten down from the tree and beg the old 
man's pardon. 

MORAL. 

If good words and gentle means will not reclaim the wicked, they must be 
dealt with in a more severe manner. 

Webster's Spelling Book, 1829 



THE PINE TREE. 

THE tremendous unity of the pine absorbs and moulds the life of a race. 
The pine shadows rest upon a nation. The northern peoples, century 
after century, lived under one or other of the two great powers of the pine and 
the sea, both infinite. They dwelt amidst the forests as they wandered on the 
waves, and saw no end nor any other horizon. Still the dark, green trees, or 
the dark, green waters, jagged the dawn with their fringe or their foam. And 
whatever elements of imagination, or of warrior strength, or of domestic 
justice, were brought down by the Norwegian or the Goth against the dis- 
soluteness or degradation of the south of Europe, were taught them under the 
green roofs and wild penetralia of the pine. 

John Ruskin, Modern Painters. 



254 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Written for the " Arbor Day Manual." 

SHUT YOUR CATTLE IN. 

THE following directions are suggested by the author : To be recited b) T a 
boy or girl. The instant the last line is said, have a chorus of voices, or 
all the parts at least sing the little song, and as they pass off let each part sing 
out loud and prompt " Shut 'em in ! " then let an echo in the school-house take 
it up and continue until you can only faintly hear it. Then let the whole 
school break out with " Oh shut your Cattle in ! " 

Ye herds that haunt the country ways, 

Ye lowing kine with threatening horns, 
E'en birds abruptly cease their lays, 

And leave their nests among the thorns 
Where'er ye tread, with reckless hoof, 

While bleeding bloom its fragrance sheds, 

And violets tremble in their beds, 
And frightened children stand aloof. 
E'en struggling maples browsed and gnawed, 
By your dread presence over-awed; 
For mercy cry with every breeze. 
Ye heed them not. God pity these ! 
With love deep-rooted thus to die, 
While wealth unfolded e'en must lie 
All dormant, till the kindly earth 
Unto some other life gives birth, 
Only to be crushed and bleed 
A victim to the farmer's greed. 

Song : 

The farmer's greed is the farmer's sin; 
Please shut your cattle in my friend, 
And let the clovers bob and bend, 
Oh shut your cattle in, 
And thus our praises win, 
Oh shut your cattle in. 
Shut 'em in ! shut 'em in ! 
St. Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 



Hence, let me haste unto the mid-wood shade, 
Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom, 
And on the dark green grass, beside the brink 
Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak 
Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large.. 



Thomson. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 255 

MON-DA-MIN; 

OR, THE ROMANCE OF MAIZE. 



SO grew Osseo, as a lonely pine, 
That knows the secret of the wandering breeze, 
And ever sings its canticles divine, 

Uncomprehended by the other trees ; 
And now the time drew nigh, when he began 
The solemn fast whose issue proves the man. 

His father built a lodge the wood within, 

Where he the appointed space should duly bide, 

Till such propitious time as he had been 
By faith prepared, by fasting purified, 

And in mysterious dreams allowed to see 

What God the guardian of his life would be. 

The anxious crisis of the Spring was past, 

And warmth was master o'er thclingering cold; 

The alder's catkins dropped; the maple cast 

His crimson bloom, the willow's gowny gold 

Blew wide, and softer than a squirrel's ear 

The white-oak's foxy leaves began appear. 

There was a motion in the soil. A sound 

Lighter than falling seeds, shook out of flowers, 

Exhaled where dead leaves, sodden on the ground, 
Repressed the eager grass ; and there for hours 

Osseo lay, and vainly strove to bring 

Into his mind the miracle of Spring. 

The wood-birds knew it, and their voices rang 
Around his lodge; with many a dart and whir 

Of saucy joy, the shrewish catbird sang 

Full-throated — and he heard the kingfisher, 

Who from his God escaped with rumpled crest, 

And the white medal hanging on his breast. 

The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocks 

A scarlet rain ; the yellow violet 
Sat in the chariot of its leaves ; the phlox 

Held spikes of purple flame in meadows wet, 
And all the streams with vernal-scented reed 
Were fringed, and streaky bells of miskodeed. 



256 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

The boy went musing : What are these, that burst 
The sod and grow, without the aid of man ? 

What father brought them food ? What mother nursed 
Them in her earthly lodge, till Spring began ? 

They cannot speak ; they move but with the air ; 

Yet souls of evil or of good they bear. 

How are they made, that some with wholesome juice 

Delight the tongue, and some are charged with death? 

If spirits them inhabit, they can loose 

Their shape sometimes, and talk with human breath ; 

Would that in dreams one such would come to me, 

And thence my teacher and my guardian be ! 

$ sN % 4 s , + 4- 

Taylor. 



THE OLD MAN'S COUNSEL. 

THE sun of Ma)' was bright in middle heaven, 
And steeped the sprouting forests, the green hills, 
And emerald wheat-fields, in his yellow light. 
Upon the apple tree, where rosy buds 
Stood clustered, ready to burst forth in bloom, 
The robin warbled forth his full clear note 
For hours, and wearied not. Within the woods, 
Whose young and half transparent leaves scarce cast 
A shade, gay circles of anemones 

Danced on their stalks; the shad-bush, white with flowers 
Brightened the glens ; the new-leaved butternut 
And quivering poplar to the roving breeze 
Gave a balsamic fragrance. In the fields 
I saw the pulses of the gentle wind 
On the green grass. My heart was touched with joy 
At so much beauty, flushing every hour 
Into a fuller beauty. 

^ ^ -(J 5j. * * * 

' Well mayst thou join in gladness," he replied, 

'With the glad earth, her springing plants and flowers, 

And this soft wind, the herald of the green 

Luxuriant summer.'' * * * Bryant. 



In heav'n the trees 
Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
Yield nectar. Milton. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 257 

THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. 

ik T)UILD me straight, O worthy Master ! 
_L) Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, 
That shall laugh at all disaster 

And with wave and whirlwind wrestle." 



Covering many a rood of ground, 

Lay the timber piled around ; 

Timber of chestnut, and elm, and oak, 

And scattered here and there, with these, 

The knarred and crooked cedar knees ; 

Brought from regions far away, 

From Pascagoula's sunny bav, 

And the banks of the roaring Roanoke ! 

Ah ! what a wondrous thing it is 

To note how many wheels of toil 

One thought, one word, can set in motion ! 

There's not a ship that sails the ocean, 

But every climate, every soil, 

Must bring its tribute, great or small, 

And help to build the wooden wall ! 



'Thus," said he, "will we build this ship! 
Lay square the blocks upon the slip, 
And follow well this plan of mine, 
Choose the timbers with greatest care ; 
Of all that is unsound beware ; 
For only what is good and strong 
To this vessel shall belong. 
Cedar of Maine and Georgia pine 
Here together shall combine. 
A goodly frame, and a goodly fame 
And the Union be her name ! " 

* * * =N * 

Long ago, 

In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, 
When upon mountain and plain 
Lay the snow, 

They fell, — those lordly pines ! 
Those grand, majestic pines ! 
'Mid shouts and cheers 
The jaded steers, 
Panting beneath the goad, 
17 



258 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 

Dragged down the weary, winding road 

Those captive kings so straight and tall, 

To be shorn of their streaming hair. 

And, naked and bare, 

To feel the stress and the strain 

Of the wind and the reeling main, 

Whose roar 

Would remind them forevermore 

Of their native forests they should not see again. 

****** 

Thou too, sail on, O Ship of State ! 
Sail on, O Union strong and great ! 
Humanity with all its fears, 
With all the hopes of future years, 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate. 



Longfellow. 



ORCHARD BLOSSOMS. 

DOTH thy heart stir within thee at the sight 
Of orchard blooms upon the mossy bough ? 

Doth their sweet household smile waft back the glow 
Of childhood's morn — the wandering, fresh delight 
In earth's new coloring, then all strangely bright 
A joy of fairyland? Doth some old nook, 
Haunted by visions of thy first-loved book, 
Rise on thy soul, with faint-streaked blossoms white 

Showered o'er the turf, and the lone primrose knot, 

And robin's nest, still faithful to the spot, 
And the bee's dreary chime ? O gentle friend ! 

The world's cold breath, not time's, this life bereaves 

Of vernal gifts : Time hallows what he leaves, 
And will for us endear spring memories to the end. 

Mrs. Hemans. 



Various the trees and passing foliage here, — 
Wild pear, and oak, and dusky juniper, 
While briony between in trails of white, 
And ivy, and the suckle's streaky light, 
And moss, warm gleaming with a sudden mark, 
Like growths of sunshine left upon the bark; 
And still the pine, flat-topp'd, and dark, and tall, 
In lordly right predominant o'er all. 

Leigh Hunt. Ravenna Pine Forest. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 259 



THE FALLEN MONARCH. 

SITTING there by the side of this prone Monarch, and measuring its diame- 
ter in my eye, or climbing up twenty-five or thirty feet upon its side — 
comparing it in my mind with the largest trees I had ever seen elsewhere — im- 
agining it stretched out in some city street, filling all the carriageway and 
reaching up to the second story windows— the idea of its vastness took full 
possession of me, and for the first time I grasped its greatness. And even 
then, I do not think the idea of size and measurement so overwhelmed me as 
did the thought of its vast age and the centuries it had looked down upon. 
The great space it had filled was nothing to the ages it had bridged over. No 
inanimate monument of man's work was here — no unwrapping of dead Pha- 
raohs from the mummy-cloths of the embalmers ; but here had been life and 
growth and increase, and running out of roots and spreading forth of branches, 
and budding leaves and flowing sap, and all the processes of nature with poise 
and swing from winter's sleep to summer's waking, and the noiseless register- 
ing of the years and centuries in figures that could not be mistaken from the 
heart of the sapling out to the last rind of bark that hugged its age. And 
though one looks with profoundest wonder at the vast size of these monsters, 
it is, after all, the suggestion they give of their far reach backward into time 
that most impresses the beholder. 

The rings in the trunks indicate ages varying from a few years to upwards of 
two thousand. Those of about ten feet in diameter are in the neighborhood 
of six hundred years old. Most of the largest trees have been damaged more 
or less by fire. One of them has been entirely hollowed out, so that our whole 
party of twelve rode in upon our horses and stood together in the cavity. The 
tree grows on, and is as green at the top as any of them, notwithstanding the 
hollowness of its trunk. 

Isaac H. Bromley. The Big Trees and the Yosemite. 

Seridner's Magazine, January, 1872. 



THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 

I HEAR, from many a little throat, Brown meadows and the russet hill, 
A warble interrupted long ; Not yet the haunt of grazing herds, 

I hear the robin's flute-like note, And thickets by the glimmering rill, 

The bluebird's slenderer song. Are all alive with birds. 

Bryant. 



Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell; 

It fell upon a little western flower, 

Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, 

And maidens call it Love-in-idleness. 

Midsummer Night's Dream. 



2 6o ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



THE TULIP TREE. 

NOW my blood with long-forgotten fleetness, 
Bounds again to boyhood's blithest tune, 
While I drink a life of brimming sweetness 

From the glory of the breezy June. 
Far above, the fields of ether brighten ; 

Forest leaves are twinkling in their glee; 
And the daisy snows around me whiten, 
Drifted down the sloping lea ! 

On the hills he standeth as a tower, 

Shining in the morn, the tulip tree! 
On his rounded turrets beats the shower, 

While his emerald flags are flapping free ; 
But when summer, 'mid her harvests standing, 

Pours to him the sun's unmingled wine, 
O'er his branches, all at once expanding, 

How the starry blossoms shine ! 

% * H* * H» # 

Wind of June, that sweep'st the rolling meadow, 

Thou shalt wail in branches rough and bare, 
While the tree, o'erhung with storm and shadow, 

Writhes and creaks amid the gusty air. 
All his leaves, like shields of fairies scattered, 

Then shall drop before the north wind's spears, 
And his limbs, by hail and tempest battered, 

Feel the weight of wintry years. 

Yet, why cloud the rapture and the glory 

Of the beautiful, bequeathed us now? 
Why relinquish all the summer's story, 

Calling up the bleak autumnal bough ? 
Let thy blossoms in the morning brighten, 

Happy heart, as doth the tulip tree, 
While the daisy's snows around us whiten, 

Drifted down the sloping lea ! 



Taylor, 



Flower in the crannied wall 

I pluck you out of the crannies ; 

Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 

Little flower, but if I could understand 

What you are, root and all, and all in all, 

I should know what God and man is. 



Tennyson. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



26l 



THE LOST MAY. 

WHEN May, with cowslip braided locks, Mays, when my heart expanded first, 
Walks through the land in green attire, A honeyed blossom, fresh with dew; 

And burns in meadow grass the phlox And one sweet wind of heaven dispersed 
His torch of purple fire; The only clouds I knew. 



When buds have burst the silver sheath, 
And shifting pink, and gray, and gold 

Steal o'er the woods, while fair beneath 
The bloom)' vales unfold; 



For she, whose softly murmured name 
The music of the month expressed, 

Walked by my side, in holy shame 
Of girlish love confessed. 



When, emerald bright, the hemlock stands 
New feathered, needled new the pine; 

And, exiles from the orient lands, 
The turbaned tulips shine; 



The budding chestnuts overhead, 

Their sprinkled shadows in the lane, 

Blue flowers along the brooklet's bed, 
I see them all again ! 



When wild azaleas deck the knoll, The old, old tale of girl and boy, 
And cinque-foil stars the fields of home, Repeated ever, never old; 

And winds that take the white-weed, roll To each in turn the gates of joy, 
The meadows into foam; The gates of heaven unfold. 



Then from the jubilee I turn 

To other Mays that I have seen, 

Where more resplendent blossoms burn, 
And statelier woods are green. 



And when the punctual May arrives, 
With cowslip-garland on her brow, 

We know what once she gave our lives, 
And cannot give us now ! 

Taylor. 



THE MAY FLOWER. 

(TRAILING ARBUTUS.) 
From the souvenir "Our National Flower," by permission of the publishers, Messrs. L. Prang & Co., Boston. 

WHEN stern New England's tardy spring My fragrance, like a message sweet, 
First thrills with life her rugged breast, Their spirits touched, and reverently 

'Tis I, who, shyly venturing, The}' chose the blossom at their feet, 

Peep forth, her earliest, sweetest guest. The symbol, of their faith to be. 



'Twas I the Pilgrim Fathers found 

When April called them to the wood, 

Trailing upon the leaf-strewn ground, 
Fair sign of nature's yielding mood. 

The)' marked my petals' tender hue, 
Soft flushing in the light of day ; 

My fragile grace they guarded knew 
Amid my rough leaves' disarray. 



They, too, had wrapped with roughest forms 
The gracious gospel that they loved; 

They, too, had braved life's rudest storms, 
Their simple courage, simply proved. 

They, too, should prosper in the land 

Where trusting flowers undaunted thrive 

Their race, deep rooted, firm should stand, 
And freedom's cause triumphant live. 
Hopestill Goodwin. 



262 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



IN PRAISE OF TREES. 

AND foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, 
Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony, 
Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dred, 
Seemed in their song to scorne the cruell sky. 
Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy, 
The sayling Pine ; the Cedar proud and tall ; 
The vine-propp Elme ; the Poplar never dry; 
The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all; 
The Aspine good for staves; the Cypresse funerall. 

The Laurell, meed of mightie conquerors 
And poets sage; the Firre that weepeth still; 
The Willow, worne of forlorne Paramours; 
The Eugh, obedient to the benders will ; 
The Birch, for shafts ; the Sallow for the mill ; 
The Mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound ; 
The warlike Beech ; the Ash for nothing ill ; 
The fruitfull Olive ; and the Platane round ; 
The carver Holme ; the Maple seldom inward sound. 

Spenser, Faerie Queene. 



TONGUES IN TREES. 

In the forest of Arden, Shakespeare makes the banished duke say to his 
companions ■ 

\ TOW, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 
1\ Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious court? 
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 
The season's difference, as the icy fang 
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, 
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say : 
'This is no flattery; these are counsellors 
That feelingly persuade me what I am.' 
Sweet are the uses of adversity. * * * 

* ^i ^c :£ 

And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. 
I would not change it." 

As You Like It, act 2, scene i. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



263 



THE MADRONA. 

TO the south of San Francisco there is even a greater range of color and 
diversity of tree growth. The San Mateo hills are rich with evergreens ; 
the country sweeping up from the pebbly beach at Pescadero is made up of 
sunny ridges, and rifted with narrow and close-grown valleys, where thread- 
like brooks murmur their way through tunnels of foliage to the sea, while the 
mountains of Santa Cruz furnish another rendezvous for the mammoth red- 
wood, the chestnut, and the oak. But distinguished from all the rest of these 
Southern nabobs, curious in shape and almost humanly beautiful, stands the 
giant Madrona, or arbutus tree. The genus really belongs to the old world. 
Asia has its species, and Mexico claims one or two representatives, but the 
pride of the family and delight of arboriculturists is the strong, healthy, and 
handsome child of the west coast. It is often eighty to one hundred feet high, 
three feet in diameter, and a famous specimen in Marin county has a measured 
girt of twenty-three feet at the branching point of the tremendous stem, with 
many of the branches three feet through. The foliage is light and airy, the 
leaves oblong, pale beneath, bright green above. The bloom is in dense 
racemes of cream-white flowers ; the fruit, a dry orange-colored berry, rough 
and uninteresting. But the charm of the Madrona, outside of its general 
appearance, is in its bark,— no, it is not a bark, it is a skin, delicate in texture, 
smooth, and as soft to the touch as the shoulders of an infant, In the strong 
sunlight of the summer these trees glisten with the rich color of polished cin- 
namon, and in the moist shadow of the springtime they are velvety in com- 
bination colors of old-gold and sage-green. There is a human pose to the 
trunk. Seen through the tangle of the thicket, it looks like the brown lithe 
body of an Indian, and in the moonlight the graceful upsweep of its branches 
is like the careless lifting of a dusky maiden's arms. Every feature of the 
Madrona is feminine. They grow in groves or neighborhoods, and seldom 
stand in isolation, courtesy to the winds, mock at the dignified evergreens 
and oaks, and with every favorable breeze and opportunity flirt desperately 
with the mountain lilacs that toss high their purple plumes on the headwaters 
of Los Gatos creek. 

Harper's Magazine, October, 1889. FRED. M. Somers. 



The birch tree swang her fragrant hair, 

The bramble cast her berry. 
The gin within the juniper 

Began to make him merry, 
The poplars, in long order due, 

With cypress promenaded, 
The shock-head willows two and two 

By rivers gallopaded. 

Tennyson, Amphion. 



264 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



FREEDOM'S FLOWER. 

THE GOLDEN ROD. 



LET merry England proudl)' rear 
Her blended roses bought so dear, 
And Scotland bind her bonnet blue 
With heath and harebell dipped in dew; 
On favored Erin's crest be seen 
The flower she loves of emerald green ; 
But ours, this new land of the west, 
What emblem blossom suits it best? 
No fragile nursling of the spring, 
No dainty, garden-nurtured thing; 
But clad in sunshine glad and strong, 
Self-sown, upspringing from the sod, 
And scattered wide and lasting long, 
Is freedom's flower, the golden rod. 



High on the mountain crag it blooms; 
The salt wind shakes its yellow plumes; 
And with its countless flowers behold 
The prairie gleams a sea of gold; 
While lonely nook and sterile place 
Grow lovely with its waving grace. 
Free, free, we gather it at will, 
And leave each roadside shining still ! 
And brave it blossoms, heeding not 
Though storms beat wild, or suns burn hot; 
Alike to all its flowers belong; 
Through all the land it decks the sod; 
It bids our hearts " Be glad, be strong; " 
'Tis freedom's flower, the golden rod. 
Marian Douglas, in Harper s Bazar. 



Written for the Arbor Day Manual." 

THE DAISY. 

OUR national emblem. 

DAISIES, bright daisies keep nodding at me, 
And winking and blinking so coquettishly, 
While up from the depths of their great speaking eyes 
Love and loyalty well ! dear national ties ! 
Go ! weave me a banner of grasses, fresh grasses, 
From out by the roadside where every one passes; 
Now bring me sweet daisies 
The pretty ox-eyed; 
Cut from the roadside 
Which every one praises. 
Now tastefully lay in the daisies for stars 
And catch me the radiant sunbeams for bars, 
Then say if a prettier emblem can be 
For this land of the brave, this home of the free. 
Sodus, N. Y. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 



Dear though the shadowy maple be, 
And dearer still the whispering pine 

Dearest yon russet-laden tree 

Browned by the heavy-rubbing kine ! 



There childhood flung its rustling stone, 
There venturous boyhood learned to climb 

How well the early graft was known 
Whose fruit was ripe ere harvest time ! 

Holmes. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



265 



A MAY MORNING LESSON. 



First. - 



RECITATION FOR FIVE PUPILS. 

Fourth 
H^WICE one are 



Second. 



Third. - 



X Prairie rose, blushing through 
My window — all aglow with dew, 
Twice one are two. 

-Twice two are four : 
Bees a-humming round the door, 
Calling others by the score, 
Twice two are four. 

-Twice three are six : 
Pansy-beds their colors mix ; 
See the mother hen and chicks. 
Twice three are six. 



— Twice four are eight: 

Gorgeous butterflies, elate, 
Dancing, poising, delicate. 
Twice four are eight. 



Macaulay' s Little Folks. 



Fifth. — Twice five are ten : 

Sweetest strains from yonder glen, 
Echoed o'er and o'er again. 
Twice five are ten. 

All. — Twice six are twelve : 

Merry maidens of the year, — 
Some in snowy gowns appear, 
Some in gold and silver sheen ; 
Vet the fairest is, I ween, 
Dainty May in pink and green. 



GOLDEN-ROD. 



IN the pasture's rude embrace, 
All o'er run with tangled vines, 
Where the thistle claims its place, 

And the straggling hedge confines, 
Bearing still the sweet impress 
Of unfettered loveliness, 
In the field and by the wall, 
Binding, clasping, crowning all, — 
Golden-rod ! 



Nature lies disheveled, pale, 

With her feverish lips apart, — 
Day by day the pulses fail, 

Nearer to her bounded heart : 
Yet that slackened grasp doth hold 
Store of pure and genuine gold ; 
Quick thou comest, strong and free, 
Type of all the wealth to be, — 
Golden-rod ! 

Elaine Goodale. 



BIRD SONGS. 



THIS is what the robin sings : 
" Sweet, sweet, 
All the cherries on the tree 
God put there for you and me ; 
Every good and tender seed, 
Grown on flower, or grown on weed, 
God made for our wee ones dear, 
So we sing the whole glad year. 
Sweet, sweet." 



Hear the blue bird where he swings : 

Oh, my home is green and fair, 

And the gentle summer air 

Rocks my little ones to rest, 

In their soft and downy nest ; 

Joyously I sing and call. 

For the good God watches all ! " 

Kathie Moore. 



266 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



TALKS ON TREES. 

FROM " THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE." 

ON'T you want to hear me talk trees a little now? That is one of my 
specialties. 



D 



I want you to understand, in the first place, that I have a most intense, pas- 
sionate fondness for trees in general, and have had several romantic attach- 
ments to certain trees in particular. 

I shall speak of trees as we see them, love them, adore them in the fields, 
where they are alive, holding their green sunshades over our heads, talking to 
us with their hundred thousand whispering tongues, looking down on us with 
that sweet meekness which belongs to huge, but limited organisms, — which 
one sees in the brown eyes of oxen, but most in the patient posture, the out- 
stretched arms, and the heavy-drooping robes of these vast beings endowed 
with life, but not with soul, — which outgrow us and outlive us, but stand help- 
less, — poor things'! — while Nature dresses and undresses them, like so many 
full-sized, but under-witted children. 

Just think of applying the Linnaean system to an elm! Who cares how 
many stamens or pistils that little brown flower, which comes out before the 
leaf, may have to classify it by ? What we want is the meaning, the character, 
the expression of a tree, as a kind and as an individual. 

There is a mother-idea in each particular kind of tree, which, if well marked, 
is probably embodied in the poetry of every language. Take the oak, for in- 
stance, and we find it always standing as a type of strength and endurance. I 
wonder if you ever thought of the single mark of supremacy which distinguishes 
this tree from those around it? The others shirk the work of resisting gravity; 
the oak defies it, It chooses the horizontal direction for its limbs so that their 
whole weight may tell, — and then stretches them out fifty or sixty feet, so that 
the strain may be mighty enough to be worth resisting. You will find, that, in 
passing from the extreme downward droop of the branches of the weeping wil- 
low to the extreme upward inclination of those of the poplar, they sweep 
nearly half a circle. At 90° the oak stops short; to slant upward another 
degree would mark infirmity of purpose; to bend downwards, weakness of or- 
ganization. The American elm betrays something of both ; yet sometimes, as 
we shall see, puts on a certain resemblance to its sturdier neighbor. 

It wont do to be exclusive in our taste about trees. There is hardly one 
of them which has not peculiar beauties in some fitting place for it. I remem- 
ber a tall poplar of monumental proportions and aspect, a vast pillar of glossy 
green, placed on the summit of a lofty hill, and a beacon to all the country 
round. A native of that region saw fit to build his house very near it, and, 
having a fancy that it might blow down some time or other, and exterminate 
himself and any incidental relatives who might be " stopping" or "tarrying" 
with him, — also laboring under the delusion that human life is under all cir- 



ARBOR DA Y MAN UAL. 267 

cumstances to be preferred to vegetable existence, — had the great poplar cut 
down. It is so easy to say, "It is only a poplar," and so much harder to re- 
place its living cone than to build a granite obelisk ! 

I always tremble for a celebrated tree when I approach it for the first time. 
Provincialism has no scale of excellence in man or vegetable; it never knows 
a first-rate article of either kind when it has it, and is constantly taking second 
and third-rate ones for Nature's best. I have often fancied the tree was afraid 
of me, and that a sort of shiver came over it as over a betrothed maiden when 
she first stands before the unknown to whom she has been plighted. Before 
the measuring tape the proudest tree of them all quails and shrinks into itself. 
All those stories of four or five men stretching their arms around it and not 
touching each other's fingers, of one's pacing the shadow at noon and making it 
so many hundred feet, die upon its leafy lips in the presence of the awful 
ribbon which has strangled so many false pretensions. 

The largest actual girth I have ever found at five feet from the ground is in 
the great elm lying a stone's throw or two north of the main road (if my points 
of compass are right) in Springfield. But this has much the appearance of hav- 
ing been formed by the union of two trunks growing side by side. 

The West-Springfield elm and one upon Northampton meadows belong also 
to the first class of trees. 

There is a noble old wreck of an elm at Hatfield, which used to spread its 
claws out over a circumference of thirty-five feet or more before they covered 
the foot of its bole up with earth. This is the American elm most like an oak 
of any I have ever seen. 

What makes a first-class elm? — Wh)* - , size, in the first place, and chiefly. 
Anything over twenty feet of clear girth, five feet above the ground and with a 
spread of branches a hundred feet across, may claim that title, according to my 
scale. All of them, with the questionable exception of the Springfield tree 
above referred to, stop, so far as my experience goes, at about twenty-two or 
twenty-three feet of girth and a hundred and twenty of spread. 

Elms of the second class, generally ranging from fourteen to eighteen feet, 
are comparatively common. The queen of them all is that glorious tree near 
one of the churches in Springfield. Beautiful and stately she is beyond all 
praise. The "great tree " on Boston common comes in the second rank, as 
does the one at Cohasset, which used to have, and probably has still, a head as 
round as an apple-tree, and that at Newburyport, with scores of others which 
might be mentioned. These last two have perhaps been over-celebrated. Both,, 
however, are pleasing vegetables. The poor old Pittsfield elm lives on its past 
reputation. A wig of false leaves is indispensable to make it presentable. 

Go out with me into that walk which we call the Mall, and look at the Eng- 
lish and American elms. The American elm is tall, graceful, slender-sprayed, 
and drooping as if from languor. The English elm is compact, robust, holds its 
branches up,and carries its leaves for weeks longer than our own native tree. 



2 68 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 

Is this typical of the creative force on the two sides of the ocean, or not? 
Nothing but a careful comparison through the whole realm of life can answer 
this question. 

There is a parallelism without identity in the animal and vegetable life of the 
two continents, which favors the task of comparison in an extraordinary man- 
ner. Just as we have two trees alike in many ways, yet not the same, both 
elms, yet easily distinguishable, just so we have a complete flora and a fauna, 
which, parting from the same ideal, embody it with various modifications. 

I have something more to say about trees. I have brought down this slice 
of hemlock to show you. Tree blew down in my woods (that were) in 1852. 
Twelve feet and a half round, fair girth; — nine feet, where I got my section, 
higher up. This is a wedge, going to the centre, of the general shape of a slice 
of apple pie in a large and not opulent family. Length, about eighteen inches. 

1 have studied the growth of this tree by its rings, and it is curious. Three 
hundred and forty-two rings. Started, therefore, about 15 10. The thickness 
of the rings tells the rate at which it grew. For five or six years the rate was 
slow, — then rapid for twenty years. A little before the year 1550 it began to 
grow very slowly, and so continued for about seventy years. In 1620 it took a 
new start and grew fast until 17 14, then for the most part slowly until 1786, 
when it started again and grew pretty well and uniformly until within the last 
dozen years, when it seems to have got on sluggishly. 

Look here. Here are some human lives laid down against the periods of its 
growth, to which they corresponded. This is Shakespeare's. The tree was 
seven inches in diameter when he was born ; ten inches when he died. A little 
less than ten inches when Milton was born ; seventeen when he died. Then 
comes a long interval, and this thread marks out Johnson's life, during which 
the tree increased from twenty-two to twenty-nine inches in diameter. Here is 
the span of Napoleon's career; — the tree doesn't seem to have minded it. 

I never saw the man yet who was not startled at looking on this section. I 
have seen many wooden preachers, — never one like this. How much more 
striking would be the calendar counted on the rings of one of those awful trees 
which were standing when Christ was on earth, and where that brief mortal 
life is chronicled with the stolid apathy of vegetable being, which remembers 
all human history as a thing of yesterday in its own dateless existence ! 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



The people of ancient Greece believed that in every tree dwelt a protecting 
nymph, or dryad. These dryads were thought to perish with the trees which had 
been their abodes, and with which they had come into existence. To willfully 
destroy a tree was, therefore, an impious act, and was often severely punished. 



Is there not a soul beyond utterance, half nymph, half child, in those delicate 
petals which glow and breathe about the centres of deep color? 

George Eliot. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



269 



CLEMATIS. 



WHERE the woodland streamlets flow, 
Gushing down a rocky bed, 
Where the tasselled alders grow, 

Lightly meeting overhead, 
When the fullest August days 

Give the richness that they know, 
Then the wild clematis comes, 
With her wealth of tangled blooms, 
Reaching up and drooping low. 



But when Autumn days are here, 

And the woods of Autumn burn, 
Then her leaves are black and sere 

Quick with early frosts to turn ! 
As the golden Summer dies, 
So her silky green has fled, 

And the smoky clusters rise 
As from fires of sacrifice, — 
Sacred incense to the dead. 

Dora Read Goodai.e. 



WHAT ROBIN TOLD. 



HOW do the robins build their nests ? 
Robin Redbreast told me. 
First a wisp of amber hay 
In a pretty round they lay, 
Then some shreds of downy floss, 
Feathers, too, and bits of moss, 
Woven with a sweet, sweet song, 
This way, that way, and across, * 
That's what robin told me. 



Where do the robins hide their nests? 

Robin Redbreast told me. 
Up among the leaves so deep, 
Where the sunbeams rarely creep ; 
Long before the winds are cold, 
Long before the leaves are gold, 
Bright-eyed stars will peep, and see 
Baby robins, one, two, three ; 

That's what robin told me. 

Geo. Cooper. 



ROSE. 



WHITE with the whiteness of the snow, 
Pink with the faintest rosy glow, 
They blossom on their sprays ; 
They glad the borders with their bloom, 
And sweeten with their rich perfume 
The mossy garden-ways. 



The dew that from their brimming leaves. 
Drips down, the mignonette receives, 

And sweeter grows thereby ; 
The tall June lilies stand anear, 
In raiment white and gold, and here 

The purple pansies lie. 



THE SWEET RED ROSE. 



u 



(^OOD MORROW, little rose-bush, 
J Now prithee, tell me true, 
To be as sweet as a red rose 
What must a body do ? " 



" To be as sweet as a red rose, 
A little girl like you 
Just grows, and grows, and grows, 
And that's what she must do." 
Joel Stacy. 



2 JO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

SONG TO THE TREES. 

MAY BE ARRANGED FOR A CLASS OF SIX PUPILS. 
I. 

HAIL to the trees ! 
Patient and generous, mothers of mankind, 
Arching the hills, the minstrels of the wind, 
Spring's glorious flowers, and summer's balmy tents, 
A sharer in man's free and happier sense, 
From early blossom till the north wind calls 
Its drowsy sprites from beech-hid waterfalls, 
The trees bless all, and then, brown-mantled, stand 
The sturdy prophets of a golden land. 

n. 
Eden was clothed in trees ; their glossy leaves 
Gave raiment, food, and shelter ; 'neath their eaves 
Dripping with ruby dew the flow'rets rose 
To follow man from Eden to his woes. 
The silver rill crept fragrant thickets through, 
The air was rich with life, a violet hue 
Tangling with sunshine lit the waving scene, 
'Twas heaven, tree-born, tree-lulled, enwreathed in green. 

in. 
Where trees are not, behold the deserts swoon 
Beneath the brazen sun and mocking moon. 
Where trees are not, the tawny torrent leaps, 
A brawling savage from the crumbling steeps, 
Where once the ferns their gentle branches waved 
And tender lilies in the crystal laved ; 
A brawling savage, plundering in a night, 
The fields it once strayed through a streamlet bright. 

IV. 

What gardeners like the trees? Their loving care 
The daintiest blooms can deftly plant and rear. 
How smilingly with outstretched boughs they stand 
To shade the flowers too fragile for man's hand ! 
With scented leaves, crisp, ripened, nay, not dead, 
They tuck the wild flowers in their moss-rimmed bed. 
The forest nook outvies the touch of art, 
The heart of man loves not like the oak's heart. 

v. 
O whispering trees, companions, sages, friends, 
No change in you, whatever friendship ends ; 
No deed of yours the Eden link e'er broke ; 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 7 1 






Bared is your head to ward the lightning's stroke ! 
You fed the infant man, and blessed his cot 
Hewed from your grain ; without you he were not; 
The hand that planned you planned the future too. 
Shall we distrust it, knowing such as you ? 

VI. 

And when comes Eden back ? The trees are here, 
In all their olden beauty and glad cheer. 
Eden but waits the lifting of the night, 
For man to know the true and will the right. 
Whatever creed may find in hate a birth, 
One of the heavens is this teeming earth ; 
'• Of all its gifts but innocence restore, 
And Eden," sigh the trees, "is at your door." 

Joseph W. Miller. 

This poem was written expressly for Cincinnati " Arbor Day," 1882. 



THE RIVER'S SUPPLICATION. 

NOW saucy Phoebus' scorching beams, 
In flaming summer pride, 
Dry-withering waste my foamy streams, 
And drink my crystal tide. 

Would then, my noble master please, 
To grant my highest wishes, 

He'll shade my banks wi'tow'ring trees 
And bonnie spreading bushes. 

Let lofty firs and ashes cool, 

My lowly banks o'erspread, 
And view, deep bending in the pool, 

Their shadows' wat'ry bed. 

Let fragrant birks, in woodbines drest, 

My craggy cliffs adorn ; 
And, for the little songster's nest, 

The close embow'ring: thorn. 



Burns. 



Where fall the tears of love the rose appears, 

And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears, 

Forget-me-nots, and violets heavenly blue, 

Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew. 

Bryant. 



272 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



CALIFORNIA'S GIANT TREES. 

THE great trees of California must be classed among the wonders of the 
world. Trees four hundred and fifty feet high, and forty feet in diameter 
must be beheld with amazement, for nowhere else upon the face of the earth 
are found such tree-monsters. Many have journeyed across the ocean, and for 
thousands of miles by land, to gaze upon these huge monarchs as they rear 
their lofty heads into the clouds. 

From "The New West" we gather the following information regarding these 
wonderful trees : 

"They were discovered in 1852, and named by Endlicher, in honor of an 
Indian chief of the Cherokees. They are limited in range, being confined to 
California, and grow entirely in groups. Of these groups there, are eight — or 
nine if the Mariposa be considered as two. 

" The Calaveras group is in the county of the same name, near the crossing 
of the Sierras by Silver Mountain Pass. The belt of trees is three thousand 
two hundred by seven hundred feet, and in that space are ninety-two of the 
monarchs. 

" Here under the shade is one of California's pet retreats. There is one fallen 
monster, which must have stood four hundred and fifty feet in the air, and had 
a diameter of forty feet. Another engaged the efforts of five men for twenty- 
five days in cutting, and on the level surface of the stump thirty-two dancers 
find ample room, Old Goliah shows the marks of a fire, that, according to 
surrounding trees untouched, must have raged a thousand years ago. 

"The diameter of the largest is thirty-three feet ; the circumference of the 
largest, five feet above the ground, sixty-one feet. This is the only one more 
than sixty feet in circumference. 

" The Stanislaus group, five miles distant, contains seven or eight hundred 
trees nearly as remarkable. Crane Flat has those boasting a diameter of 
twenty-three feet, and a circumference of fifty-seven feet. The Mariposa 
group, which generally divides honors with Calaveras, is situated sixteen miles 
south of the Lower Hotel in Yosemite. 

"The same wise foresight which gave Yosemite to the State, gave Mariposa 
to be held in perpetuity. The grant is two miles square. It has been improved 
and made of easy access. The Tule-River groups were the last discovered, 
being found in 1867. While Calaveras and Mariposa lead in point of being 
known, the others are worthy any reasonable expenditure of time and money. 

"Gazing on a mountain there comes no thought that it has been a witness to 
the passing events of the ages. But these trees have shaded races dead for 
hundreds of years. They live, and seem almost possessed of minds ; and when 
those who now rest under their branches are dust, they will still live, and 
future generations may conjecture who has seen them in ages gone. They 
sprouted before the Christian era dawned, and unconcerned they grew, while 
nations rose and fell." 

Another writer who once sat beneath the shade of these forest monarchs, 
remarks : 




TUNNEL THROUGH WAWONA " DIAMETER 27 FEET. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 273 

"Wild calculations have been made of the ages of the larger of these trees; 
but one of the oldest in the Calaveras grove being cut down and the rings of 
the wood counted, its age proved to be one thousand three hundred years; and 
probably none now upon the ground date back farther than the Christian era. 
They began with our modern civilization ; they were just sprouting when the 
star of Bethlehem rose and stood for a sign of its origin ; they have been 
ripening in beauty and power through these nineteen centuries ; and they stand 
forth now a type of the majesty and grace of Him with whose life they are 
coeval. Certainly they are chief among the natural curiosities and marvels of 
Western America, of the known world; and though not to be compared, in the 
impressions they make and the emotions they arouse, to the great rock scenery 
of the Yosemite, which inevitably carries the spectator up to the Infinite 
Creator and Father of all, they do stand for all that has been claimed for them 
in wonderful greatness and majestic beauty." 

So much larger are these immense trees than those we ordinarily see, that a 
comparison is about the only way in which we can correctly measure them. 
Shortly after they were discovered, the hollow trunk of one of them was for- 
warded to New York, where it was converted into a grocery store. 

In one of these groups of trees a stage road has been cut under the trunk 
through the roots, and immense coaches, drawn hy six horses, pass directly 
under the old giant. 

One of the original hotels, known as the "Hotel de Redwood," consisted at 
one time of five hollow trees. One served as an office and bar-room, another 
for the proprietor's family, and dining-room, and the remainder were used as 
lodgings. 

A pioneer set up house-keeping in the hollow trunk of one of these trees. 
His family had room enough, and there was no trouble about lathing and 
plastering. A hollow tree thirty to forty feet in diameter would make several 
rooms of convenient size, and quite large enough for a numerous family. 



We have known men upon whose grounds were old, magnificent trees of 
centuries growth, lifted up into the air with vast breadth, and full of twilight 
at midday — who cut down all these mighty monarchs and cleared the ground 
bare ; and then when the desolation was completed and the fierce summer sun 

flZt 

gazed full into their faces with its fire, they besought themselves of shade, and 
forthwith set out a generation of thin, shadowless sticks. Such folly is theirs 
who refuse the tree of life — the shadow of the Almighty — and sit instead 
under feeble trees of their own planting, whose tops will never be broad enough 
to shield them, and whose boughs will never discourse to them the music of 
the air. 

Beecher. 



It never rains roses : when we want — 

To have more roses we must plant more trees. 

13 George Eliot. 



2 74 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



ODE TO THE TREES. 

0, WHO is there within whose heart 
The love of noble manhood dwells, 
Who feels the thrill of pleasure start 
When other tongues the story tells 

Of deeds sublime? with true eye sees 

The beautiful in art and thought — 
Dares stand before God's stately trees, 

Declaring that he loves them not ? 

Companions of our childhood days ! 

Companions still, though grown we be ! 
Still through thy leaves the light breeze strays, 

Whispering the same old songs to me. 

^ % ^ 5fc * * 

Dear forest ! down thy long aisles dim 
Soft sweeps the zephyr's light caress ; 

Worthy indeed art thou of Him 

Who made thee in thy loveliness. 

Long may thy graceful branches wave, 

Piercing with pride the balmy air ; 
Harm ne'er would come if I could save — 

Fit objects of our love and care. 

But though erect each noble form, 

As year by year rolls swift along, 
Thou too, like man, must face the storm, 

And fall — or live to be more strong. 

Forever upward, day by day, 

Patient thy growing branches turn; 
Nearer the heavens each year ahvay — 

May we the simple lesson learn — 

Though few our years or many be, 

It matters not the number given, 
If we can feel that, like the tree, 

Each year hath found us nearer heaven. 

Maggie May Welsh, Lancaster, 0. 

Written for Cincinnati " Arbor Day " Celebration. 



To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 

Wordsworth. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 jr 



Arranged for the "Arbor Day Manual." 

FAMOUS AND CURIOUS TREES. 

The Cedars of Mount Lebanon are, perhaps, the most renowned and the best 
known monuments in the world. Religion, poetry and history have all united 
to make them famous. There are about four hundred of these trees, disposed 
in nine groups, now growing on Mount Lebanon. They are of various sizes, 
ranging up to over forty feet in girth. 

A few miles out of the city of Mexico stands a gnarled old Cypress, called the 
tree of Triste Noche. It was under this tree that Cortez sat and wept on that 
memorable Triste Noche when driven from the Mexican capital by the Indians. 

Another interesting tree to be seen in Mexico is found at Chapultepec, that 
delightful summer resort of the Mexican rulers from the time of the Monte- 
zumas. The tree in question stands a few feet from the entrance way, and is 
draped with the lovely Spanish moss. It is also a Cypress of immense size, so 
large is it that a party of thirteen could just reach around it. It is known as 
the tree of Montezuma, and no doubt he often sat under its shade when rusti- 
cating in this lovely spot. 

Sir Philip Sidney's Oak at Penshurst, which was planted at his birth ; The 
Abbot's Oak, and William the Conqueror's Oak at Windsor Park, are famous 
trees in English history. 

But beside historical trees there are many others that attract our attention 
from their great size or curious properties. Among the former are the wonder- 
ful trees of California, some of which are from three to five hundred feet in 
height and twenty to twenty-five feet in diameter. A section of one of these 
trees was at onetime exhibited in San Francisco, in which was a room carpeted, 
and containing a piano and seats for forty people; a hundred and forty children 
once filled the room without crowding. 

Among curious trees may be mentioned the Cow tree, or Palo de Vaca of the 
Cordilleras, which grows at a height of three thousand feet above sea level. 
It is~a lofty tree with laurel-like leaves, and though receiving no moisture for 
seven months of the year, when its trunk is tapped a bountiful stream of milk 
bursts forth. It flows most freely at sunrise, when the natives may be seen 
coming from all directions with pans and pails to catch the milk, which is said 
to have a pleasant, sweet taste, but becomes thick and yellow in a short time 
and soon turns into cheese. 

Then there is the Bread Fruit tree, one of the most curious as well as useful 
trees of the Pacific Islands. The fruit, which is about the size of a Cocoanut, 
should be gathered before it is ripe, and be baked like hoe-cake. When prop- 
erly cooked it resembles and tastes like good wheat bread. 

Another very curious tree is the Candle-nut tree, of the South Sea Islands, 
the fruit of which is heart-shaped and about the size of a walnut. From the 
fruit is obtained an oil used both for food and light. The natives of the Society 
Islands remove the shell and slightly bake the kernels, which they string on 
rushes and keep to be used as torches. Five or six in a Screw Pine leaf are 
said to give a brilliant light. 



2 76 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



T 



WHEN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS STIR. 

HE buds in the tree's heart safely were folded away, 
Awaiting in dreamy quiet the coming of May, 



When one little bud roused gently and pondered awhile, — 
'« It's dark, and no one would see me," it said with a smile. 

'" If I before all the others could bloom first in May, 
And so be the only blossom, if but for a day, 

How the world would welcome my coming, — the first little flower, - 
'T will surely be worth the trouble, if but for an hour." 

Close to the light it crept softly, and waited till Spring, 
With her magic fingers, the door wide open should fling. 

Spring came, the bud slipped out softly and opened its eyes 
To catch the first loving welcome ; but saw with surprise. 

That swift through the open doorway, lo, others had burst ! 
For thousands of little white blossoms had thought to be first." 

St. Nicholas. " Jack-in-the-Pulpit, May, i! 



MAY. 

MAY is here ! 
I know there's a blossom somewhere near, 
For the south wind tosses into my room 
A hint of summer — a vague perfume 
It has pilfered somewhere (I cannot tell 
Whether from pansy or pimpernel), 
But it sets me dreaming of birds and bees 
And the odorous snow-storms of apple trees 
Of roses sweet by the garden wall, 
And milk-white lilies, stately and tall; 
Of clover red in the morning sun, 
And withered and dead when the day is done ; 
Of the song that the stalwart mower sings, 
Of gladness, and beauty, and all sweet things 
That summer brings. 

Eben E. Rexford. 



What should I tell you more of it? 

There are so many trees yet, 

That I should all encumbered be 

Ere I had reckoned every tree. Chaucer. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



277 



BIRDS' NESTS. 



SUITABLE FOR CLASS EXERCISE BY YOUNG PUPILS. 



THE skylark's nest among the grass 
And waving corn is found; 
The robin's on a shady bank, 

With oak leaves strewed around. 



Rooks build together in a wood, 

And often disagree; 
The owl will build inside a barn 

Or in a hollow tree. 



The wren builds in an ivied thorn 

Or old and ruined wall; 
The mossy nest, so covered in, 

You scarce can see at all. 

The martins build their nests, of clay, 
In rows beneath the eaves; 

While silvery lichens, moss, and hair 
The chaffinch interweaves. 

The cuckoo makes no nest at all, 

But through the wood she strays 

Until she find one snug and warm, 
And there her eggs she lays. 

The sparrow has a nest of hay, 
With feathers warmly lined; 

The ring-dove's careless nest of sticks 
On lofty trees we find. 



The blackbird's nest, of grass and mud, 
In bush and bank is found; 

The lapwing's darkly spotted eggs 
Are laid upon the ground. 

The magpie's nest is girt with thorns 

In leafless tree or hedge; 
The wild duck and the water-hen 

Build by the water's edge. 

Birds build their nests from year to year, 
According to their kind, — 

Some very neat and beautiful, 
Some easily designed. 

The habits of each little bird, 

And all its patient skill, • 
Are surely taught by God Himself 

And ordered by His will. 



Written for the " Arbor Day Manual." 

'NEATH THE COTTON-WOOD TREES. 

LET one who sips life's tears with strange delight, 
And finds in sobs and sighs life's harmony, 
Go out beneath the cotton-wood trees at night 

And there repent the laughter of the day; 
Then listen to the rustling of the leaves, 
Like steady rain-fall from the homestead eaves, 
And listening, weep and pray ! 
But on the morrow, hie away ! 
It is not well to dwell there all the dreary while, 
To-night we weep and pray, to-morrow toil and smile. 
While the cotton-woods weep and sway 
All the night and all the day. 

Mrs. B. C. Rude. 
Sodus, N. Y. 



278 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE LITTLE PINE TREE. 



ONCE a little Pine tree, 
In the forest ways, 
Sadly sighed and murmured, 
Thro' the summer days. 
" I am clad in needles — 

Hateful things ! " — he cried ; 
"Ail the trees about me 

Laugh in scornful pride. 
Broad their leaves and fair to see ; 
Worthless needles cover me. 

" Ah, could I have chosen, 

Then, instead of these, 
Shining leaves should crown me, 

Shaming all the trees. 
Broad as theirs and brighter, 

Dazzling to behold ; 
All of gleaming silver — 

Nay, of burnished gold. 
Then the rest would weep and sigh 
None would be so fine as I." 

Slept the little Pine tree 

When the night came down, 
While the leaves he wished for 

Budded on his crown. 
All the forest wondered, 

At the dawn, to see 
What a golden fortune 

Decked this little tree. 
Then he sang and laughed aloud ; 
Glad was he and very proud. 

Foolish little Pine tree ! 

At the close of day, 
Thro' the gloomy twilight, 

Came a thief that way. 
Soon the treasure vanished ; 

Sighed the Pine, " Alas ! 
Would that I had chosen 

Leaves of crystal glass." 
Long and bitterly he wept. 
But with night again he slept. 
St. Nicholas, May, 18S9. 



Gladly in the dawning 

Did he wake to find 
That the gentle fairies 

Had again been kind. 
How his blazing crystals 

Lit the morning air ! 
Never had the forest 

Seen a sight so fair. 
Then a driving storm did pass ; 
All his leaves were shattered glass. 

Humbly said the Pine tree, 

" I have learned 't is best 
Not to wish for fortunes 

Fairer than the rest. 
Glad were I, and thankful, 

If I might be seen, 
Like'the trees about me, 

Clad in tender green." 
Once again he slumbered, sad ; 
Once again his wish he had. 

Broad his leaves and fragrant, 

Rich were they and fine, 
Till a goat at noon-da}' 

Halted there to dine. 
Then her kids came skipping 

Round the fated tree ; 
All his leaves could scarcely 

Make a meal for three. . 
Every tender bud was nipt, 
Every branch and twig was stript. 

Then the wretched Pine tree 

Cried in deep despair, 
' Would I had my needles ; 

They were green and fair. 
Never would I change them," 

Sighed the little tree ; 
" Just as nature gave them 

The)' were the best for me." 
So he slept, and waked, and found 
All his needles safe and sound ! 

EUDORA S. BUMSTEAD. 



When our wide woods and mighty lawns 
Bloom to the April skies, 



The earth has no more gorgeous sight 
To show to human eyes. 

Bryant. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



2 79 



THE FLOWER OF THE DESERT. 

Who does not recollect the exultation of Valiant over a flower in the torrid wastes 
of Africa? The affecting mention of the influence of a flower upon the mind, by Mungo 
Park, in a time of suffering and despondency, in the heart of the same savage country, 
is familiar to every one." — Hewitt's Book of the Seasons. 

WHY art thou thus in thy beauty cast, " Yes ! dews more sweet than ever fell 

O lonely, loneliest flower ! O'er island of the blest 

Where the sound of song hath never passed Were shaken forth, from its purple bell. 

From human hearth or bower? On a suffering human breast. 

I pity thee, for thy heart of love, " A wanderer came, as a stricken deer, 

For that glowing heart, that fain O'er the waste of burning sand, 

Would breathe out joy with each wind to rove He bore the wound of an Arab spear, 
In vain, lost thing ! in vain ! He fled from a ruthless band. 



I pity thee, for thy wasted bloom, 
For thy glory's fleeting hour, 

For the desert place, thy living tomb — 
O, lonely, loneliest flower ! 



"And dreams of home in a troubled tide 
Swept o'er his darkening eye, 
As he lay down by the fountain side, 
In his mute despair to die. 



I said — but a low voice made reply, 

" Lament not for the flower ! 
Though its blossoms all unmarked must die, 
The}'- have had a glorious dower. 

"Though it bloom afar from the minstrel's 
way, 
And the paths where lovers tread ; 
Yet strength and hope, like an inborn day, 
By its odors have been shed. 



But his glance was caught by the desert's 
flower, 

The precious boon of Heaven ; 
And sudden hope, like a vernal shower, 

To his fainting heart was given. 

For the bright flower spoke of One above — 
Of the presence felt to brood, 

With a spirit of pervading love, 
O'er the wildest solitude. 



O, the seed was thrown those wastes among 
In a blessed and gracious hour, 

For the lorn rose in heart made strong, 
By the lonely, loneliest flower ! " 



Mrs. Hemans. 



FAIR TREE! 



Fair tree ! for thy delightful shade 
Tis just that some return be made ; 
Sure some return is due from me 
To thy cool shadows and to thee. 
When thou to birds dost shelter give, 
Thou music dost from them receive ; 
If travelers beneath thee stay 



Till storms have worn themselves away, 
That time in praising thee they spend, 
And thy protecting power commend ; 
The shepherd here from scorching freed, 
Tunes to thy dancing leaves his reed, 
Whilst his loved nymph in thanks bestows 
Her flowery chaplets on her boughs. 

Lady Winchelsea. — The Tree. 



2 8o 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE DANCE OF THE DAISIES. 



SO my pretty flower-folk, you 
Are in a mighty flutter ; 
All your nurse, the wind, can do, 
Is to scold and mutter. 

" We intend to have a ball 

(That's why we are fretting); 
And our neighbor-flowers have all 
Fallen to regretting. 

" Man)' a butterfly we send 
Far across the clover. 
(There '11 be wings enough to mend 
When the trouble's over.) 

" Many a butterfly comes home 

Torn with thorns and blighted, 
Just to say they cannot come, — 
They whom we've invited. 

" Yes, the roses and the rest 

Of the high-born beauties 
Are ' engaged,' of course, and pressed 
With their stately duties. 

"The)' 're at garden-parties seen ; 

They 're at court presented : 
They look prettier than the Queen ! 

(Strange that 's not resented.) 
St. Nicholas, August, 1SS9. 



' Peasant-flowers they call us — we 

Whose high lineage you know — 
We, the ox-eyed children (see !) 
Of Olympian Juno." 

(Here the daisies all made eyes ! 

And they looked most splendid, 
As they thought about the skies, 

Whence they were descended.) 

' In our saintly island (hush !) 
Never crawls a viper, 
Ho, there, Brown-coat ! that's the thrush: 
He will be the piper. 

' In this Irish island, oh, 

We will stand together. 
Let the royal roses go ; — 
We don't care a feather. 

Strike up, thrush, and play as though 
All the stars were dancing. 

So they are ! And — here we go — 
Isn't this entrancing?" 

'Swaying, mist-white, to and fro, 
Airily they chatter, 
For a daisy dance, you know, 
Is a pleasant matter. 

Sarah M. B. Piatt. 



HOW calm, how beautiful comes on 
The stilly hour, when storms are gone; 
When warring winds have died away, 
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 
Melt off, and leave the land and sea 
Sleeping in bright tranquillity, — 
Fresh as if Day again were born, 
Again upon the lap of Morn ! 
When the light blossoms, rudely torn 
And scattered at the whirlwind's will, 
Hang floating in the pure air still, 
Filling it all with precious balm, 



In gratitude for this sweet calm ; 
And every drop the thunder-showers 
Have left upon the grass and flowers 
Sparkles, as 'twere that lightning-gem 
Whose liquid flame is born of them ! 

When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze, 
There blow a thousand gentle airs, 
And each a different perfume bears, — 

As if the loveliest plants and trees 
Had vassal breezes of their own 
To watch and wait on them alone, 
And waft no other breath than theirs ! 

Moore's Lalla Rookh. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



28l 



A WALK IN SPRING. 



IWANDER'D in a lonely glade, 
Where, issuing from the forest shade, 
A little mountain stream 
Along the winding valley play'd, 
Beneath the morning beam. 



'T is sweet in solitude to hear 
The earliest music of the year, 

The Blackbird's loud wild note, 
Or. from the wintry thicket drear, 

The Thrush's stammering throat. 



Light o'er the woods of dark brown oak In rustic solitude 'tis sweet 

The west wind wreathed the hovering smoke, The earliest flowers of Spring to greet, — 

From cottage roofs conceal'd, The violet from its tomb, 

Below a rock abruptly broke. The strawberry, creeping at our feet, 

In rosy light reveal'd. The sorrel's simple bloom. 



'T was in the infancy of May, — 
The uplands glow'd in green array, 

While from the ranging eye 
The lessening landscape stretched away, 

To meet the bending sky. 



Wherefore I love the walks of Spring, - 
While still I hear new warblers sing 

Fresh opening bells I see ; 
Joy flits on every roving wing, 

Hope' buds on every tree. 



Montgomery. 



MIDSUMMER. 



BEHOLD the flood-tide of the year, 
The glad midsummer time, 
When all things bright and fair are here 
And earth is in its prime. 



This lovely world, how strangely sweet 

It is! how wondrous fair 
The starr)- daisies at my feet ! 

How fresh the summer air ! 



In fresh green woods the laurel hides 
Her blushing waxen bloom ; 

And pink azaleas by the brook 
Breathe spicy, faint perfume. 



They bring a message home to me, 
With tender meaning fraught : 

The lowliest flower our Lord has made 
Is worth a tender thought. 



Wild roses by the dusty roads 
Bud, blossom and decay, 

Content to be for joy of it, 
The pleasure of a day. 



And each midsummer blossom-time 
I learn the lessons o'er, — 

This love of field, and flower, and vine, 
And love of God the more. 

Abbie F. Judd. 



Hence lastly springs care of posterities 

For things their kind would everlasting make 

Hence is it that old men do plant young trees, 
The fruit whereof another age shall take. 
Sir J. Davies. 



The birch, the myrtle, and the bay 
Like friends did all embrace ; 

And their large branches did display 
To canopy the place. 

Dryden. 



282 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



BRIAR-BLOOM. 

THE wild azaleas sweeten all the woods, 
The locust swings its garlands of perfume ; 
But, sweetest of all sweets, to-day there broods 
Above the slopes of green and golden gloom 
The scent of briar-bloom. 

Sweetest of sweets and fairest of all flowers 

Among wealth of delicate blossoming, 
The blackberry bramble creeps and hides, or towers 

Above the budding shrubs, with clasp and cling 

Bowering the realm of spring. 

Roses are warmer with their passion red, 

Lilies are queenlier with their hearts of snow, 

Magnolia cups a heavier incense shed, 

But when I would be tranced with sweet I go 
Where the sharp briars grow. 

Brave must the hand be, which would bear away 

Their snowy length and dare the threatened doom, 

Yet when is past my woodland holiday, 

I can but smile at wounds and deck my room 
With wreaths of briar-bloom. 

Some souls I love are trimmed with flowers like these, 
Recluse and shrinking from the broadest day, 

And full of delicate fragrances — 

Yet with keen pride to hold false friends at bay 

And keep the world away. 

Elizabeth Akers Allen. 



ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM. 

HERE are old trees, tall oaks, and gnarled pines, 
That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground 
Was never trenched by spade, and flowers spring up 
Unsown, and die ungathered. It is sweet 
To linger here among the flitting birds 
And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds 
That shake the leaves, and scatter, as they pass, 
A fragrance from the cedars, thickly set 
With pale-blue berries. In these peaceful shades — 
Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old — 
My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, 
Back to the earliest days of liberty. 

****** 

Bryant. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 283 



CALLING THEM UP. 

" Q HALL I go and call them up — 

O Snowdrop, daisy, buttercup ?" 
Lisped the rain ; "they 've had a pleasant winter's nap." 

Lightly to their doors it crept, 

Listened while they soundly slept ; 
Gently woke them with its rap-a-tap-a-tap ! 
Quickly woke them with rap a-tap-a-tap ! 

Soon their windows opened wide, — 
Every thing astir inside ; 
Shining heads came peeping out, in frill and cap; 
" It was kind of you, dear rain," 
Laughed the}'' all, ''to come again ; 
We were waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap ! 
Only waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap ! " 

George Cooper. 



THE OLIVE TREE. 

THE palm — the vine — the cedar — each hath power 
To bid fair Oriental shapes glance by ; 
And each quick glistening ot the laurel bower 

Wafts Grecian images o'er fancy's eye. 

But thou, pale olive ! in thy branches lie 
Far deeper spells than prophet grove of old 

Might e'er enshrine : I could not hear thee sigh 
To the wind's faintest whisper, nor behold 
One shiver of thy leaves' dim, silvery green, 
Without high thoughts and solemn of that scene 

When, in the garden, the Redeemer prayed, — 
When pale stars looked upon His fainting head, 
And angels, ministering in silent dread, 

Trembled, perchance, within thy trembling shade. 

Mrs. Hemans. 



Spirits of fire, that brood not long, 
But flash resentment back for wrong ; 
And hearts, where, slow but deep, the seeds 
Of vengeance ripen into deeds ; 
Till, in some treacherous hour of calm, 
They burst, like Zeilan's giant palm, 
Whose buds fly open with a sound 
That shakes the pigmy forests round ! 

Moore's Lalla Rookh. 



284 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



AMONG THE TREES. 

OH ye who love to overhang the springs, 
And stand by running waters, ye whose boughs 
Make beautiful the rocks o'er which they play, 
Who pile with foliage the great hills, and rear 
A paradise upon the lonely plain, 
Trees of the forest, and the open field ! 
Have ye no sense of being? Does the air, 
The pure air, which I breathe with gladness, pass 
In gushes o'er your delicate lungs, your leaves, 
All unenjoyed ? When on your winter's sleep 
The sun shines warm, have ye no dreams of spring? 
And when the glorious spring-time comes at last, 
Have ye no ]oy of all your bursting buds, 
And fragrant blooms, and melody of birds 
To which your young leaves shiver? Do ye strive 
And wrestle with the wind, yet know it not ? 
Feel ye no glory in 3'our strength, when he, 
The exhausted blusterer, flies beyond the hills, 
And leaves you stronger yet ? Or have ye not 
A sense of loss when he has stripped your leaves, 
Yet tender, and has splintered your fair boughs? 
Does the loud bolt that smites you from the cloud 
And rends you, fall unfelt ? Do there not run 
Strange shudderings through your fibres when the ax 
Is raised against you, and the shining blade 
Deals blow on blow, until, with all their boughs, 
Your summits waver and ye fall to earth ? 
Know ye no sadness when the hurricane 
Has swept the wood and snapped its sturdy stems 
Asunder, or has wrenched, from out the soil, 
The mightiest with their circles of strong roots, 
And piled the ruin all along his path ? 

Nay, doubt we not that under the rough rind, 
In the green veins of these fair growths of earth, 
There dwells a nature that receives delight 
From all the gentle processes of life, 
And shrinks from loss of being. Dim and faint 
May be the sense of pleasure and of pain, 
As in our dreams ; but, haply, real still. 

For still 
The February sunshine steeps your boughs 
And tints the buds and swells the leaves within ; 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



235 



While the song-sparrow, warbling from her perch, 

Tells you that spring is near. The wind of May 

Is sweet with breath of orchards, in whose boughs 

The bees and every insect of the air 

Make a perpetual murmur of delight. 

And by whose flowers the humming-bird hangs poised 

In air, and draws their sweets and darts away. 

The linden, in the fervors of July, 

Hums with a louder concert. When the wind 

Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime, 

As when some master-hand exulting sweeps 

The keys of some great organ, ye give forth 

The music of the woodland depths, a hymn 

Of gladness and of thanks. The hermit-thrush 

Pipes his sweet note to make your arches ring; 

The faithful robin, from the wayside elm, 

Carols all day to cheer his sitting mate; 

And when the autumn comes, the kings of earth, 

In all .their majesty, are not arrayed 

As ye are, clothing the broad mountain-side 

And spotting the smooth vales with red and gold ; 

While, swaying to the sudden breeze, ye fling 

Your nuts to earth, and the brisk squirrel comes 

To gather them, and barks with childish glee, 

And scampers with them to his hollow oak. 

Thus, as the seasons pass, ye keep alive 
The cheerfulness of Nature, till in time 
The constant misery which wrings the heart 
Relents, and we rejoice with you again, 
And glory in your beauty; till once more 
We look with pleasure on your varnished leaves, 
That gayly glance in sunshine, and can hear, 
Delighted, the soft answer which your boughs 
Utter in whispers to the babbling brook. 

Ye have no history. I cannot know 
Who, when the hillside trees were hewn away, 
Haply two centuries since, bade spare this oak, 
Leaning to shade, with his irregular arms, 
Low-bent and long, the fount that from his roots 
Slips through a bed of cresses toward the bay — 
I know not who, but thank him that he left 
The tree to flourish where the acorn fell, 
And join these later days to that far time 
While yet the Indian hunter drew the bow 



2 86 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

In the dim woods, and the white woodman first 
Opened these fields to sunshine, turned the soil 
And strewed the wheat. An unremembered Past 
Broods, like a presence, mid the long gray boughs 
Of this old tree, which has outlived so long 
The flitting generations of mankind. 

Ye have no history. I ask in vain 
Who planted on the slope this lofty group 
Of ancient pear-trees that with springtime burst 
Into such breadth of bloom. One bears a scar 
Where the quick lightning scored its trunk, yet still 
It feels the breath of Spring, and every May 
Is white with blossoms. Who it was that laid 
Their infant roots in earth, and tenderly 
Cherished the delicate sprays, I ask in vain, 
Yet bless the unknown hand to which I owe 
This annual festival of bees, these songs 
Of birds within their leafy screen, these shouts 
Of joy from children gathering up the fruit 
Shaken in August from the willing boughs. 

Ye that my hands have planted, or have spared, 
Beside the way, or in the orchard-ground, 
Or in the open meadow, ye whose boughs 
With every summer spread a wider shade, 
Whose herd in coming years shall lie at rest 
Beneath your noontide shelter? who shall pluck 
Your ripened fruit ? who grave, as was the wont 
Of simple pastoral ages, on the rind 
Of my smooth Beeches some beloved name ? 
Idly I ask, yet ma)*- the eyes that look 
Upon you, in }^our later, nobler growth, 
Look also on a nobler age than ours; 
An age when, in the eternal strife between 
Evil and Good, the Power of Good shall win 
A grander mastery. 

* * * * * * * Bryant. 



A man was lately tried at Aberdeen for obstructing a revenue officer; it un- 
fortunately came out on the trial, that the prisoner had been guilty of planting 
the Tree of Liberty, where no tree had ever grown before, and where Liberty 
was not in the most flourishing state. The consequence was, a judgment, that 
he should be publicly whipped, and banished the kingdom for fourteen years. 

Thomas Paine, 1793. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 28 J 



N' 



BOLEHILL TREES. 

A conspicuous plantation, encompassing a school-house and play-ground, on 
a bleak eminence, at Barlow, in Derbyshire. 

OW peace to his ashes who planted yon trees, 
That welcome my wandering eye ! 
In lofty luxuriance they wave with the breeze, 

And resemble a grove in the sky. 
On the brow of the mountain, uncultured and bleak, 

They flourish in grandeur sublime, 
Adorning its bald and majestical peak, 

Like the lock on the forehead of Time. 

A land-mark they rise; — to the stranger forlorn 

All night on the wild heath delay 'd, 
' Tis rapture to spy the young beauties of morn 

Unveiling behind their dark shade. 
The homeward-bound husbandman joys to behold, 

On the line of the gray evening scene, 
Their branches yet gleaming with purple and gold, 

And the sunset expiring between. 

******* 

Then peace to his ashes who planted those trees! 

Supreme o'er the landscape they rise, 
With simple and lovely magnificence please 

All bosoms, and gladden all eyes. 
Nor marble, nor brass, could emblazen his fame 

Like his own sylvan trophies, that wave 
In graceful memorial, and whisper his name. 

And scatter their leaves on his grave. 

Ah ! thus, when I sleep in the desolate tomb, 

May the laurels I planted endure. 
On the mountain of high immortality bloom, 

Midst lightning and tempest secure ! 
Then ages unborn shall their verdure admire, 

And nations sit under their shade, 
While my spirit, in secret, shall move o'er my lyre, 

Aloft in their branches display'd. 

¥ ^ + -f- ^ *z :-c 

Montgomery. 



Amid them stood the tree of life, 

High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 

Of vegetable gold. Milton's Paradise Lost. 



ARBOR DA V MAX UAL. 



TREE BURIAL. 

NEAR our south-western border, when a child 
Dies in the cabin of an Indian wife, 
She makes its funeral couch of delicate furs, 
Blankets and bark, and binds it to the bough 
Of some broad branching tree with leathern thongs 
And sinews of the deer. A mother once 
Wrought at this tender task, and murmured thus: 

" Child of my love, I do not lay thee down 
Among the chilly clods where never comes 
The pleasant sunshine. There the greedy wolf 
Might break into thy grave and tear thee thence, 
And I should sorrow all my life. I make 
Thy burial-place here, where the light of day 
Shines round thee, and the airs that play among 
The boughs shall rock thee. Here the morning sun, 
Which woke thee once from sleep to smile on me, 
Shall beam upon thy bed, and sweetly here 
Shall lie the red light of the evening clouds 
Which called thee once to slumber. Here the stars 
Shall look upon thee — the bright stars of heaven 
Which thou didst wonder at. Here too the birds, 
Whose music thou didst love, shall sing to thee, 
And near thee build their nests and rear their young 
With none to scare them. Here the woodland flowers, 
Whose opening in the spring-time thou didst greet 
With shouts of joy, and which so well became 
Thy pretty hands when thou didst gather them, 
Shall spot the ground below thy little bed. 



Bryant. 



The thorns which I reaped are of the tree 

I planted, — they have torn me and I bleed ; 

I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed. 

Byron's Childe Harold. 



" O, for a seat in some poetic nook 
Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook." 

Leigh Hunt. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



289 



VOICES OF THE FOREST. 



GUARDING the mountains around 
Majestic the forests are standing, 
Bright are their crested helms, 
Dark is their armor of leaves ; 
Filled with the breath of freedom 
Each bosom subsiding, expanding, 
Now like the ocean sinks, 
Now like the ocean upheaves, 



Planted firm on the rock, 
With foreheads stern and defiant, 
Loud they shouted to the winds, 
Loud to the tempest they call ; 
Naught but Olympian thunders, 
That blasted Titan and Giant, 
Them can uproot and o'erthrow, 
Shaking the earth with their fall. 
Longfellow's The Masque of Pandora. 



WILD THORN BLOSSOMS. 



DEEP within the tangled wildwood, 
Where the tuneful thrushes sing, 
And the dreaming pine trees whisper 

In their sleep a tale of spring ; 
Where the laughing brook goes leaping 

Down the mountain's mossy stair, 
There the wild white thorn is flinging 
Its sweet fragrance everywhere. 



Rough and rugged are its branches, 

But its bloom is white as snow ; 
And the roaming bees have found it, 

In their wanderings to and fro ; 
And they gather from its sweetness 

Heavy freights the livelong day, 
And go sailing homeward, singing 

Their thanksgivings all the way. 



All unheeded fall the blosoms, 

Like sweet snowfiakes through the air, 
And the summer marches onward 

With its fragrance rich and rare ; 
But the grateful bee remembers, 

As he winds his mellow horn, 
That the spring-time was made sweeter 

By the blossoms of the thorn. 



Julian S. Cutler. 



ARBUTUS. 



a 



ARBUTUS, thou dost faintly swing 
The subtle censer of the Spring. 
I sip thy wine, I kiss thy lips, 
I softly touch thy pinky tips, 
More than I say thou art to me, 
A past and still a joy to be ! 
If e'er I stand of all bereft, 
As they do stand whom Death has left, 
A treasure dearer far than gold 
Mine empty hands will seek and hold 
19 



The first arbutus of the Spring, 
A simple thing, a little thing, 
Yet incense-bearer to the King, 
His tidings glad borne on its wing. 
All my lost life 'twill backward bring. 
And all the life before 'twill touch 
With Spring's young glory, 'twill be 

much, 
How much ! Yet such a little thing, 
The first arbutus of the Spring ! " 



290 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A MAY MORNING. 



OLADY, leave thy silken thread 
And flowery tapestry ; 
There's living roses on the bush, 

And blossoms on the tree ; 
Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand 

Some random bud will meet ; 
Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find 
The daisy at thy feet. 



'Tis like the birthday of the world, 

When earth was here in bloom ; 
The light is made of many dyes, 

The air is all perfume ; 
There's crimson buds, and white and blue 

The very rainbow showers 
Have turned to blossoms where they fell, 

And sown the earth with flowers. 



There's fair)' tulips in the east, 

The garden of the sun ; 
The very streams reflect the hues 

And blossom as they run ; 
While morn opes like a crimson rose, 

Still wet with pearly showers ; 
Then, lady, leave the silken thread 

Thou twinest into flowers 



PUT FLOWERS IN YOUR WINDOW. 



u 



PUT flowers in your window, friend, 
And summer in your heart ; 
The greenness of their mimic boughs 
Is of the woods a part ; 
The color of their tender bloom 
Is love's own pleasing hue, 
As surely as you smile on them, 
They'll smile again on you. 



Put flowers in your window, when 

You sit in idle mood ; 

For wholesome, mental aliment, 

There is no cheaper food. 

For love and hope and charity 

Are in their censer shrined, 

And shapes of loveliest thought grow out 

The flower-loving mind." 



Yes, I love the children of the woodlands, of the highlands and the lowlands. Espec- 
ially those first heralds of spring that come forth with all her newness and dewy freshness, 
that quickening of life that makes one's pulses bound. Yes, 

" There is to me 
A daintiness about these early flowers, 
That touch me like poetry. They blow out 
With such a simple loveliness among 
The common herbs of pasture, and they breathe 
Their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts 
Whose beatings are too gentle for the world." 

Mrs. G. W. Flanders. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



291 



TREES OF HISTORY AND MYTHOLOGY. 

YOUTH once rode into a forest, and asked of the trees: 



A 



" O, if ye have a singing leaf, The music of seas far away; 

I pray you give it me." Only the Aspen pattered 



But the trees all kept their counsel, With a sound like the growing rain, 

They said neither yea or nay ; That fell fast and ever faster, 

Only there sighed from the Pine tops Then faltered to silence again. 

Tennyson tells us of the talking Oak, but to us, who are less fortunate in 
poetic imagery, the trees are speechless ; if the birds understand the language 
of rustling leaves, they keep it a secret from us, who would fain open and read 
this page in nature's volume. 

Sacred history is full of allusions to trees in their various stages of growth 
and abundance. The first sin of our common mother was in partaking of the 
forbidden fruit from the tree in the garden of Paradise. At the foot of Mount 
Lebanon eight gigantic Cedars stand as the only representatives of the once 
immense forests. The prophecy concerning them has come to pass, " They 
shall be few that a child may count them." The Olive, the Fig and the Oak 
are likewise often referred to in the sacred Scriptures. We read of the righteous 
as representing a tree of life, and they are declared to be like a tree planted by 
the rivers of water, while the wicked are likened to a Green Bay tree, and the 
ungodly to an Oak whose leaf fadeth. The Green Bay tree is a species of 
Laurel. Pliny collected and recorded the information and opinions concerning 
it current in his time. It was held sacred to Apollo, and used as a symbol of 
victory. It was used by the Romans to guard the gates of Caesar, and that 
worn by Augustus and his successors had a miraculous history. The grove at 
the Imperial villa having grown from a shoot sent by Livius Drusilla from 
heaven. 

Among the Indians of Brazil there is a tradition that the whole human race 
sprang from a Palm tree. It has been a symbol of excellence for things good 
and beautiful. Among the ancients it was an emblem of victory, and. as such, 
was worn by the early Christian martyrs, and has been found sculptured on their 
tombs. The Mohammedans venerate it. Certain trees, said to have been propa- 
gated from some originally planted by the prophet's daughter, are held sacred 
and the fruit sold at enormous prices. The day upon which Christ entered 
Jerusalem, riding upon the colt of an ass, is called Palm Sunday, being the first 
day of the Holy Week. In Europe real Palm branches are distributed among 
the people. Goethe says : 

" In Rome on Palm Sunday, 

They have the true Palms, 
The cardinals bow reverently 
« And sing old psalms. 

Elsewhere these songs are sung 'mid Olive branches ; more southern climes 
must be content with the sad Willow. 



292 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



The books relating to the religion of Buddha were nearly all of them written, 
upon the leaves of the Fan Palm, and by missionaries they have been used in 
the place of paper. The noble aspect of this tree, together with its surpassing 
utility, has caused it to be called "the prince of the vegetable kingdom," and 
it has been immortalized in history, mythology and poetry. 

A Cypress tree in Somma, Lombardy, is said to have been standing since 
the time of Julius Caesar. Napoleon, in making a road over the Simplon, devi- 
ated from a straight line, that he might not be obliged to cut it down. Cypress 
wood is very enduring, and for this reason, no doubt, it was used for mummy 
cases and statues. Pliny tells us, a statue of Jupiter carved from Cypress 
wood remained standing for six hundred years. In Turkish cemeteries it is a, 
rule to plant a tree of this variety at every interment. 

Cypanissus, a beautiful youth, was transformed into a Cypress by Apollo,, 
that he might grieve all the time. The Cypress is an emblem of mourning, 
and Scott thus writes : 

" When villagers my shroud bestrew 
With Pansies, Rosemary and Rue, 
Then, lady, weave a wreath for me, 
And weave it of the Cypress tree." 

There is a familiar legend about the Black Thorn, a species of the Plum. It 
is said that Joseph, of Aramathea, planted his staff, that it grew, put forth its 
blossoms every Christmas day afterward until it was destroyed by a Puritan 
soldier, who was wounded by a splint from the tree and died from its effects. 

Branches of the White Thorn were used for the nuptial chaplets of Athenian 
brides, and a tree of this variety is still alive that was planted by Mary, Oueen 
of Scots. 

There is a tradition among the French peasantry that groans and cries issue 
from the Hawthorn on Good Friday, doubtless arising from the superstition 
that Christ's crown of thorns was made from this bush. 

The legend that the cross of Jesus was made of Aspen wood, and hence its 
leaves were doomed to tremble, has led an unknown poet to show his ignorance 
of the true cause in the following lines : 

"Ah, tremble, tremble, Aspen tree, 
I need not ask thee why thou shakest, 
For if, as holy legend saith, 
On thee the Saviour bled to death, 
No wonder, Aspen, that thou quakest, 
And till in judgment all assemble, 
Thy leaves, accursed, shall wail and tremble." 

The real cause of the mobility depends on the fact that the leaf stalk of the 
Poplar is flattened laterally, and even the slightest wind produces a motion. 
Since this is so, we may be sure that the Aspen will continue to wail and trem- 
ble, but not because its leaves are accursed. 

There is an island in Lake Wetter, Scotland, upon which stood twelve majes- 
tic Beach trees, called the twelve apostles. A jealous peasant cut one of them 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2n . 



down, thus effacing from the group the traitor, Judas, who, he declared, should 
have no lot with the faithful. 

In Latin myths, the Fig tree was held sacred to Bacchus, and employed in 
religious ceremonies. A tree of this variety is said to have overshadowed 
Romulus and Remus, the twin founders of Rome, in the wolf's cave. The 
sacred Fig is chiefly planted in India as a religious object, being regarded as 
sacred by both Brahmas and Buddhists. A gigantic tree of this variety, grow- 
ing in Ceylon, is said to be one of the oldest trees in the world, and, if tradition 
is to be trusted, it grew from a branch of the tree under which Gantama Buddha 
became endued with divine powers, and has always been held in the highest 
"veneration. 

Vick's Magazine. F. L. SHELDON. 



A TREE'S RECORD OF ITS LIFE. 

IT is not known to every one that a tree keeps a record within its stem of the 
character of each successive season since it began its growth. If a Peach 
tree, for instance, be examined after it has been cut down, the ring of wood 
formed in each year will show by its amount whether the summer of that year 
was warm or dry, or otherwise favorable or adverse ; and by the condition of 
the wood, the character of the winter will be denoted. Severe early frost will 
leave a layer of soft, decaying wood ; and later frosts will be indicated by a 
change of color, if nothing more. 

If a summer has been so dry as to cause a total rest between the growths of 
June and September, the annual ring for that year will be a double one, and 
sometimes barely distinguishable as one, but liable to be taken, by a not very 
close observer, for two different years' growth. 

At a late meeting of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh, Sir Robert Christisun 
gave the results of measurements of large trees of different species made annu- 
ally on lines of girth marked permanently with paint. In the very unfavorable 
season of 1879, the deficiency in summer temperature was nearly ten degrees. 
In seven Oak trees, of different species, the deficiency in annual increase of 
girth was ten per cent. In eleven other deciduous trees, it was forty-two per 
cent ; and in seventeen Pines it was twenty per cent, different species of the 
same family giving very nearly similar results. 

Vick's Magazine. 



Nearly all the tributaries of the upper Mississippi have lost one-half of their 
former supply of water. Inundations in the spring are more frequent, while 
now in the summer the depth of many of these rivers average hardly more 
inches than could be measured by feet thirty years ago. The snow-fall is irreg- 
ular, and the climate is subject to abrupt changes at all seasons of the year. 
The Legislatures of the North-Western States are being roused to the fact 
the forests must be preserved. 



294 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Arranged for the " Arbor Day Manual." 

HISTORIC TREES. 

THE following list includes some of the more prominent trees that have been 
consecrated by the presence of eminent personages, or by some conspic- 
uous event in the history of our country. 

They all have a place in our national history, and are inseparable from it because 
they were so consecrated. A knowledge of the events associated with their 
memories cannot but engender patriotic emotions in the breast of every true 
American citizen. 

i. One of the best known trees in American history is the Charter Oak which 
stood in Hartford, Conn., until 1856, when it was blown down. This tree once 
preserved the written guarantee of the liberties of the then infant colony of 
Connecticut. In 1687 Governor Andros, whom King James had sent across the 
sea to be Governor of all New England, appeared before the Connecticut 
Assembly, then in session in Hartford, and demanded the Colony's charter. 
Tradition tells us that the charter was brought in and laid upon the table. In 
an instant all lights were extinguished and the room was wrapped in total dark- 
ness. Not a word was spoken. The candles were again lighted, but the char- 
ter had mysteriously disappeared ; and though Sir Edmund searched diligently 
for it, his search was in vain. Captain James Wadsworth had seized the 
precious charter and concealed it in a hollow in the trunk of this friendly tree. 

2. All strangers who visit Cambridge, Massachusetts, look with interest upon 
the remnants of the venerable Elm tree under which Washington sat, when on 
the 3rd of July, 1775, he assumed command of the Colonial army. It stands in 
the center of a great public thoroughfare, its trunk protected by an iron fence 
from injury by passing vehicles, which for more than a century have turned out 
for this tree. 

3. "The Cary Tree," planted by Alice and Poebe Cary. As these sisters were 
returning from school one day they found a small tree in the road, and carry- 
ing it to the opposite side they dug out the earth with sticks and their hands, 
and planted it. When these two children had grown to womanhood and 
removed to New York city, they never returned to their old home without 
paying a visit to the tree they had planted. That tree is the large and beautiful 
Sycamore, which one sees in passing along the Hamilton turnpike from College 
Hill to Mount Pleasant, Hamilton county, Ohio. 

4. A tree interesting from its association with the General of the American 
Army, is the Washington Oak at Fishkill. Washington's headquarters re- 
mained on the west bank of the Hudson, between Newburgh and New Windsor, 
from the spring of 1782, to August 18, 1783; and during this time he crossed 
the river frequently for the purpose of visiting the troops in camp upon Fish- 
kill Plain, near the village of that name. The most convenient landing-place 
on the east bank was upon a long, low point of land formed to the north of the 
mouth of Fishkill creek, and here, according to the tradition of the locality, 
under two large Oak trees, Washington always mounted and dismounted from 
his horse as he started and returned from the camp. The tree is a Chestnut 




'***%& 



A CALIFORNIA GIANT. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 295 

Oak, still healthy and vigorous, and standing directly at the top of the low 
river-bank. The trunk girths at the present time, over twenty-one feet, and, 
judging from the age of its companion, which was blown down a few years since, 
eight or ten centuries may have passed since the acorn from which it sprang 
fell to the ground. 

5. There is a Weeping Willow in Copp's burying-ground near Bunker Hill, 
that has grown from a branch taken from a tree that shaded the grave of 
Napoleon at St. Helena. Under this tree are buried the remains of Cotton 
Mather, so noted in Salem witchcraft. Copp's burying-ground is so near the 
Bunker Hill battle-field, that a number of grave-stones can be seen to-day 
which were pierced through by bullets fired by British soldiers in that battle. 

6. It was the custom of our New England ancestors to plant trees in the early 
settlement of our country, and dedicate them to liberty. Many of these " Lib- 
erty Trees," consecrated by our fore-fathers are still standing. "Old Liberty 
Elm " in Boston, was planted by a school-master long before the Revolutionary 
war, and dedicated by him to the independence of the Colonies. Around that 
tree, before the Revolution, the citizens of Boston and vicinity, used to gather 
and listen to the advocates of our country's freedom. Around it during the 
war, they met to offer up thanks and supplications to Almighty God for the 
success of the patriot armies, and after the terrible struggle had ended the 
people were accustomed to assemble there year after year, in the shadow of that 
old tree, to celebrate the liberty and independence of our country. It stood 
till within a few years, a living monument of the patriotism of the people of 
Boston, and when at last it fell, the bells in all the churches of the city were 
tolled, and a feeling of sadness spread over the entire State. 

7. The Ash trees planted by General Washington at Mt. Vernon. These trees 
form a beautiful row, which is the admiration of all who visit the home of the 
Father of his Country. 

8. The Elm tree at Philadelphia, under which William Penn made his famous 
treaty with nineteen tribes of barbarians, the only treaty never sworn to and 
never broken. This Elm was carefully guarded until itfio, when it was unfor- 
tunately blown down. A monument now marks the spot. 

Other familiar trees are the wide spreading Oak tree of Flushing, Long 
. Island, under which George Fox, the founder of the society of Friends or 
Quakers, preached. 

"The Burgoyne Elm," at Albany, which was planted on the day the British 
General Burgoyne was brought a prisoner into the city, the day after the 
surrender. 

The lofty Cypress tree in the Dismal Swamp, under which Washington 
reposed one night in his young manhood. 

The magnificent Black Walnut tree, near Haverstraw on the Hudson, under 
which General Wayne mustered his force at midnight, preparatory to his suc- 
cessful attack on Stony Point. 

The huge French Apple tree near Fort Wayne, Indiana ( where Little Turtle, 
the great Miama Chief, gathered his warriors. 

The grand Magnolia tree near Charleston, South Carolina, under which Gen- 
eral Lincoln held a council of war previous to surrendering the city. 



296 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



The tall Pine tree at Fort Edward, New York, under which the beautiful 
Jane McCrea was slain. 

The great Pecan tree at Villere's plantation, below New Orleans, under which 
a portion of the remains of General Packingham was buried. 

The Pear trees planted respectively by Governor Endicott of Massachusetts, 
and Governor Stuyvesant of New York, more than two hundred years ago, and 
the Tulip tree on King's mountain battle-field, in South Carolina, upon which 
ten Tory murderers were hung at one time. 

Sodus Centre, N. Y. Edward C. Delano. 



THE USE OF ARBOR DAY. 

THE subject of forestry is, of course, an appropriate one for Arbor Day, if 
there is any person available who is competent to present or discuss it. 
Almost any time would be suitable for the intelligent treatment of this topic, if 
people will come together to hear and consider it. It is vitally related to the 
public welfare in a variet)* - of ways, and serious injury to the prosperity and 
civilization of our country is almost certain to result from the lack of sufficient 
knowledge to enable our people justly to estimate its importance. Oratory 
without knowledge is of little value, and will not long be found entertaining ; 
but knowledge regarding the subjects which are appropriate for Arbor Day can 
be acquired only as knowledge of other important subjects is acquired, by seri- 
ous interest and application, by stud)'- and adequate observation. 

The planting of trees by a person able to use it as an object-lesson for popu- 
lar instruction by describing the structure and functions of the various parts of 
the tree, and their relations to each other in its life, would in many places be 
an admirable use to make of Arbor Day. The proper care of trees and shrubs 
in villages and along country road-sides, their economic value as related to 
bird-life and insect-life, their influence on health, and on the interest and hap- 
piness of human life, their value as a means of seclusion, and their effect in 
landscape everywhere, are all good subjects for consideration on Arbor Day, if 
they are seriously and intelligently presented. 

If a few public-spirited young men and women in every town will read the 
new literature regarding these and similar subjects, they will soon be able to 
supply competent direction for Arbor Daj r observances, and, what is more im- 
portant, to give good counsel, and to act intelligently when questions of prun- 
ing trees, widening streets and destroying road-sides are under discussion. 

Garden and Forest. April 17, 1889. 



Germany has made great progress in tree-planting. It was a part of the 
national policy of Frederick the Great by which Germany was raised from a 
small power to a great one. Where once the sandy deserts would not nourish 
a flock of goats, vast armies have been maintained, and regiments of hardy 
soldiers have poured forth from the fertile soil, where two hundred years ago 
the thorn and the thistle overspread an impoverished land. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



297 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual" 

PRUNING TREES. 

AS trees grow thick])- together in the forest, the lower limbs die and drop off, 
while they are small ; but in case of isolated trees, the conditions are so 
different, that unless pruned, they are often ill shaped and unsightly. 

Many people erroneously imagine that as a tree grows, the limbs will be raised 
higher, whereas, from increased weight, they droop and become really lower. 

The common practice is to neglect pruning shade trees till the view is 
obstructed by large low limbs which are then heroically sawed off, leaving large 
knots and scars which must ever remain to offend the eye. These useless 
branches were grown at the expense of the main trunk ; such trees can never 
present the fine and majestic appearance of those which have a nearly uniform 
diameter from the ground to the lowest limbs. 

In imitation of nature's process in the forest, all limbs and sprouts should be 
removed as soon as possible up to a desired point ; this can usually be done 
with an ordinary knife, or even the hand. In considering the removal of a 
sprout, the question should be : Will a branch be desirable at that point? If 
not, let it not remain to rob desirable parts. The height at which branching 
should be allowed to commence must be decided by individual taste which will 
also indicate the lopping off, at other points, of those branches which are ill- 
formed, and not in harmony with the general appearance. Dead and decaying 
limbs should be promptly removed. H. R. Sanford, A. M. 



THE BLUE-BIRD. 

WHEN Nature made the blue-bird she wished to propitiate both the sky and 
the earth, so she gave him the color of the one on his back and the hue of 
the other on his breast, and ordained that his appearance in spring should 
denote that the strife and war between these two elements was at an end. He 
is the peace-harbinger; in him the celestial and the terrestrial strike hands and 
are fast friends. He means the furrow and he means the warmth ; he means all 
the soft, waving influences of the spring on the one hand, and the retreating 
footsteps of winter on the other. After you have seen the blue-bird you will 
see no more cold, no more snow, no more winter. He brings soft skies and the 
ruddy brown of the fields. It is sure to be a bright March morning when you 
first hear his note ; and it is as if the milder influences up above had found a 
voice and let a word fall upon the ear, so tender is it and so prophetic a hope 
tinged with a regret. 

Scribner's Magazine, August, 1873. JOHN BURROUGHS. 



Owing to the destruction of forests, that part of Italy that was once adorned 
with villas, parks, flower and fruit gardens, is now an unhealthy uninhabitable 
region. The malarious gases were formerly absorbed by the leaves of the 
numerous trees, but now they fill the air, and infect even the heart of the city. 



298 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE PALM TREE. 

IS it the palm, the cocoa palm, 
On the Indian sea, by the isles of balm ? 
Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm ? 

A ship whose keel is of palm beneath, 
Whose ribs of palm have a palm-bark sheath, 
And a rudder of palm it steereth with. 

Branches' of palm are its spars and rails, 
Fibers of palm are its woven sails, 
And the rope is of palm that idly trails ! 

What does the good ship bear so well? 
The cocoa-nut with its stony shell, 
And the milky sap of its inner cell. 

What are its jars, so smooth and fine, 

But hollowed nuts, filled with oil and wine, 

And the cabbage that ripens under the Line? 

Who smokes his nargileh, cool and calm ? 

The master whose cunning and skill could charm 

Cargo and ship from the bounteous palm. 

In the cabin he sits on a palm mat soft, 
From a beaker of palm his drink is quaffed, 
And a palm thatch shields from the sun aloft. 

His dress is woven of palmy strands, 

And he holds a palm-leaf scroll in his hands, 

Traced with the Prophet's wise commands ! 

The turban folded about his head 

Was daintily wrought of the palm-leaf braid, 

And the fan that cools him, of palm was made. 

Of threads of palm was the carpet spun 
Whereon he kneels when the day is done, 
And the foreheads of Islam are bowed as one. 

To him the palm is a gift divine 
Wherein all uses of man combine, — 
House, and raiment, and food, and wine ! 

And in the hour of his great release, 
His need of the palm shall only cease 
With the shroud wherein he lies at peace. 

"Allah il Allah ! " he sings his psalm, 

On the Indian sea, by the isles of palm ; 
" Thanks to Allah who gives the palm !" Whittier. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 299 



WELCOME TO MAY. 

HAIL ! hail ! hail to the beautiful May ; 
Now while nature's green carpet is spread on the ground, 
With verdure and beauty the hill-sides are crowned, 
So with music, sweet music, we'll make the wood ring, 
While nature is smiling, this song we will sing: 
Welcome to May, beautiful May, 
Join in the song gladly to-day, 
With happy voices and with hearts so gay, 
Sing we a welcome, thrice welcome tc May. 

Hail ! hail ! hail to the beautiful May; 

Lovely May thou art welcome, we greet thee to-day, 

For winter's cold winds thou hast driven far away, 

While the birds sing so gayly, and flow'rs bloom so bright, 

We'll join in the chorus and sing with delight : 

Welcome to May, beautiful May, 

Join in the song gladly to-day, 

With happy voices and with hearts so gay, 

Sing we a welcome, thrice welcome to May. 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 

SONG OF CONSECRATION. 

RELEASED from her fetters, all nature rejoices, 
With music and mirth from her captives set free, 
We join the grand anthem, and lift our glad voices 
In praise and thanksgiving, Great Giver, to thee. 

Earth green, 'neath our feet, thy warm sun shining o'er us, 
With birds and the bowers and the blossoms of spring, 

The landscape of life stretching onward before us, 
Tis meet that our Arbor Day off'ring we bring. 

From winter's cold sleep, see the myriads awaken ; 

To slumber no longer in silence and gloom, 
Not a life, not a germ, not a bud is forsaken, 

But all are remembered in nature's first bloom. 

While 'neath the green foliage the shadows are dancing, 

Our hearts swayed with love as the leaves on the tree, 
And feel the warm zephyrs of summer advancing 
We lift our glad spirits, Great Giver, to thee ! 
Water town, N. Y. E. A. Hole rook. 



3<DO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 

ARBOR DAY. 

ITS EDUCATING INFLUENCE. 

THE observance of Arbor Day has already led to the planting of myriads of 
trees in this country. Important as is this result, the educating influence of 
this work is of still higher value. One of these educating forces begins when 
children are thus led to plant not only trees, but tree-seeds, acorns, nuts, drupe- 
stones or pits, and then to observe the wonderful miracles which the tree-life 
they have started is working out before them. What interest and profit, what 
growth of mind and heart they will gain, as they watch the mysterious forces 
of these living germs, their marvelous assimilating power, carrying on a curious 
chemistry in their underground laboratory, linked with the mysterious appa- 
ratus of the leaves above, transforming coarse earth and even offensive filth 
into living forms of surpassing beauty and fragrance. It is something for a 
child, who has dropped such a germ in the earth, to feel that he has made a 
lasting contribution to the natural beauty around him, for there is nothing 
more ennobling than the consciousness of doing something for future genera- 
tions, which may prove a growing benefaction in coming years — a better 
monument than any in bronze or marble. The trees which children plant 
around the homestead and watch from seed to shoot, from bud to limb, and 
from flower to fruit, will be increasingly prized with a sentiment of companion- 
ship and almost of kinship as they grow into living memorials of happ3 r , 
youthful days. Thus, the educating influences of Arbor Day will manifest 
themselves more and more as the years go by, especially to all who apply Dr. 
Holmes' advice, and "make trees monuments of history and character," or 
appreciate his saying, " I have written many verses, but the best poems I have 
produced are the trees I have planted," or the striking words of Sir Walter, 
"Planting and pruning trees I could work at from morning till night. There 
is a sort of self-congratulation, a little tickling self-flattery in the idea that 
while you are pleasing and amusing 5^ourself, you are seriously contributing to 
the future welfare of the country." 

As a result of Arbor Day, talks on trees and tree-planting are now common 
in our best schools. Every pupil should be led to observe, recognize and 
admire our common trees, and thus come to realize that they form the finest 
drapery that adorns this earth in all lands. Such love of trees will tend to 
make them practical arborists. Let the parent as well as teacher, then- 
encourage every child — girl or boy — to plant, or help in planting, if too 
young to work alone, some flower, shrub, vine or tree, to be known by his or 
her name. Such offspring they will watch with pride, as every month or )'ear 
new beauties appear, and find a peculiar pleasure in the parentage of trees, 
whether forest, fruit or ornamental, a pleasure that never cloys, but grows 
with their growth. Such tree-planting is a grand discipline in foresight. 
Mental myopia means weakness and folly, while the habit of forecasting con 
sequences is the condition of wisdom. Many youth will sow onty where they 
can quickly reap. With them a meagre crop soon in hand outweighs a golden 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. ?oi 



harvest long in maturing. The tree-planter can appreciate the apothegm, 
"To patiently work and wait, year after year, for the attainment of some far- 
off end, shows a touch of the sublime, and implies moral no less than mental 
heroism." 

Clinton, Conn. B. G. Northrop. 



ARBOR DAY. 



OUR modern institution — Arbor Day — is a public acknowledgment of our 
dependence upon the soil of the earth for our daily, our annual, bread. 
In recognition of the same fact the Emperor of China annually plows a furrow 
with his own hand, and in the same significance are the provisions in the 
ancient law of Moses, to give the land its seven-year Sabbath, as well as to 
man his seventh day for rest and recreation. Our observance is a better one, 
because it calls on all, and especially on the impressible learners in the schools 
to join in the duty which we owe to the earth and to all mankind, of doing 
what each of us can to preserve the soil's fertility, and to prevent, as long as 
possible, the earth, from which we have our being, from becoming worn out 
and wholly bald and bare. And we do this by planting of any sort, if only by 
making two blades of grass grow where but one grew before, and by learning 
to preserve vegetation. We give solemnity to this observance by joining in it 
on an appointed day, high and low, old and young, together. 
Vick's Magazine. 



DESTRUCTION OF THE FORESTS. 

SOME of the figures presented to the Forestry Congress, recently held at 
Philadelphia, are, to say the least, impressive. From them it appears that the 
woodland of the United States now covers 450,000,000 acres, or about twenty- 
six per cent of the area. Of this not less than 25,000,000 acres are cut over 
annually, a rate of destruction that will bring our forests to an end in eighteen 
years, if there is no replanting. It was also stated that while the wood grow- 
ing annually in the forests of the United States amounts to 12,000,000,000 cubic 
feet, the amount cut annually is 24,000,000,000 cubic feet, and this does not 
include a vast amount destroyed by fire. The country's supply of timber, 
therefore, is being depleted at least twice as fast as it is being reproduced, and 
this is another way of showing *that a timber famine is approaching rapidly. It 
will be very serious when it comes, and it will not be relieved very easily or 
very soon. 

Newspaper Extract, Nov., 1 889. 



Mouldering and moss grown through the lapse of years in motionless beauty 
stands the giant, oak — while those that saw its green and flourishing youth are 
gone and forgotton. 

Longfellow. 



302 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



ASPEN. 

T that awful hour of the passion, when the Saviour of the world felt de- 
serted in His agony, when — 

" The sympathizing sun his light withdrew, 
And wonder'd how the stars their dying Lord could view — " 



A 



when earth, shaken with horror, rung the passing bell for Deity, and universal 
nature groaned ; then from the loftiest tree to the lowliest flower all felt a 
sudden thrill, and trembling, bowed their heads, all save the proud and ob- 
durant aspen, which said, "Why should we weep and tremble? we trees, and 
plants, and flowers are pure and never sinned ! " Ere it ceased to speak, an 
involuntary trembling seized its every leaf, and the word went forth that it 
should never rest, but tremble on until the day of judgment. 

Old Legend. 



MAPLE. 



THAT was a day of delight and wonder, 
While lying the shade of the maple trees under — 
He felt the soft breeze at its frolicsome play ; 
He smelled the sweet odor of newty mown hay, 
Of wilding blossoms in meadow and wood, 
And flowers in the garden that orderly stood ; 
He drank of the milk foaming fresh from the cow, 
He ate the ripe apple just pulled from the bough ; 
And lifted his hand to where hung in his reach, 
All laden with honey, the ruddy-cheeked peach ; 
Beside him the blackberries juicy and fresh ; 
Before him the melon with odorous flesh; 
There he had all for his use or his vision, 

All that the wishes of mortal could seize — 
There where he lay in a country elysian, 
Happily, dreamily, 
Under the trees. 

Tho's Dunn English. 



Ye field flowers ! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true; 
Yet, wildings of nature, I doat upon you ; 

For ye waft me to summers of old, 
When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight, 
And when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight, 

Like treasures of silver and gold. 

Campbell. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



303 



THE LILAC. 

THE sun shone warm, and the lilac said, 
" I must hurry and get my table spread, 
For if I am slow, and dinner late, 
My friends, the bees, will have to wait." 

So delicate lavender glass she brought 
And the daintiest china ever bought, 
Purple tinted, and all complete ; 
And she filled each cup with honey sweet. 

' Dinner is ready ! " the spring wind cried ; 
And from hive and hiding, far and wide, 
While the lilac laughed to see them come, 
The little gray-jacketed bees came hum-m ! 

They sipped the syrup from every cell, 

They nibbled at taffy and caramel ; 

Then, without being asked, they all buzzed: "We 

Will be very happy to stay to tea." 

Clara Doty Bates. 



I 



THE RHODORA. 

ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? 

N Maj^, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, 



I found the fresh rhodora in the woods, 
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 
To please the desert and the sluggish brook. 
The purple petals fallen in the pool, 
Made the black water with their beauty gay; 
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool. 
And court the flower that cheapens his array. 
Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why 
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, 
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, 
Then beauty is its own excuse for being. 
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! 
I never thought to ask, I never knew; 
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose 
The self-same power that brought me there brought you. 

Emerson. 



Who that has loved knows not the tender tale 
Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell. 

Bulwer-Lytton. 



304 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



THE BIRCH TREE. 

RIPPLING through thy branches goes the sunshine, 
Among thy leaves that palpitate forever; 
Ovid in thee a pining nymph had prisoned, 
The soul once of some tremulous inland river, 
Quivering to tell her woe, but, ah ! dumb, dumb forever ! 

While all the forest, witched with slumberous moonshine, 

Holds up its leaves in happy, happy silence, 

Waiting the dew, with breath and pulse suspended, 

I hear afar thy whispering, gleamy islands, 

And track thee wakeful still amid the wide-hung silence. 

Upon the brink of some wood-nestled lakelet, 

Thy foliage, like the tresses of a Dryad, 

Dripping about thy slim white stem whose shadow 

Slopes quivering down the water's dusky quiet, 

Thou shrink'st as on her bath's edge would some startled Dryad. 

Thou art the go-between of rustic lovers; 
Thy white bark has their secrets in its keeping; 
Reuben writes here the happy name of Patience, 
And thy lithe boughs hang murmuring and weeping 
Above her as she steals the mystery from thy keeping. 

Thou art to me like my beloved maiden, 

So frankly coy, so full of trembly confidences ; 

Thy shadow scarce seems shade, thy pattering leaflets 

Sprinkle their gathered sunshine o'er my senses, 

And nature gives me all her summer confidences. 

Whether my heart with hope or sorrow tremble, 
Thou sympathizest still ; wild and unquiet, 
I fling me down ; thy ripple, like a river, 
Flows valleyward. where calmness is, and by it 
My heart is floated down into the land of quiet. 



Lowell. 



Behold the trees unnumbered rise, 

Beautiful, in various dyes ; 

The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, 

The yellow beech, the sombre yew, 

The slender fir that taper grows, 

The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs. 



Dyer. 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. „ Q r 



CUTTING OFF THE FORESTS. 

EFFECT IN CENTRAL NEW YORK. 

THERE is abundant evidence in America of the effects of cutting off the 
forests. In Central New York streams that thirty or forty years ago kept 
the ponds well filled for the saw-mill and grist-mill, and furnished a never-fail- 
ing supply of running water for the farm, are now dry in summer, with the ex- 
ception of here and there a stagnant pool ; the dam is decayed and washed away, 
the mills gone, and the once picturesque scene is changed to that of desolation. 
Yet, with the warm rains of spring and the melting snows, the streams overflow 
their banks, the swift waters carry away fences, bridges, and embankments. 
Spring opens later. The young cattle were wont to be turned into the wood- 
sheltered pasture about the first of April ; now they are kept shut up until the 
middle of May. Peach orchards that were sure to be loaded every year with 
luscious fruit have almost disappeared, and the crop is the exception rather 
than the rule. The extremes of heat and cold are greater, and droughts in 
summer and floods in springtime are more frequent and more destructive. 
Trace the stream* from its source to the laket and the cause of these things is 
apparent. The old tamarack swamp that used to supply the boys and girls 
with aromatic gum, and in which the creek had its source, has all been cut 
away. The thickly-wooded black-ash swamps, through which the stream ran 
in its course to the lake, have been cleared, and their marshy areas have given 
place to cultivated fields and pastures. The cutting away the forests from the 
headwaters and the banks of this stream accounts for the changes I have noted, 
and this picture, I doubt not, is a very familiar one in the New England and Mid- 
dle States. It is not difficult for men who know the effects of cutting the timber 
from small areas around the headwaters of the smaller streams to understand 
why summer navigation in the Mississippi, the Missouri, and the Ohio, has 
become difficult and at times impossible where it was easy and constant a few 
years ago ; or why the Hudson and the Connecticut are much lower in summer 
and higher in spring than in former years. The partial deforesting of the 
Adirondack region has materially affected the flow of the Hudson, the Mohawk, 
the Black, and other rivers, and sufficiently demonstrated the fact that were 
this great watershed of New York stripped of its forest covering, the Empire 
State would lose her prestige, and New York city her rank as the first commer- 
cial city of the New World. 

Warren Higley, President American Forestry Congress, 1885. 



In such green palaces the first kings reigned 
Slept in their shade, and angels entertained. 
With such old counsellors they did advise, 
And by frequenting sacred shades grew wise. 



*Owasco creek in Cavuga countv. tOwasco lake. 

20 



3°6 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



ARBOR DAY. 

TREE planting on Arbor Day, for economic purposes in the great West, has 
given to the prairie States many thousand acres of new forests, and in- 
spired the people with a sense of their great value, not only for economic 
purposes, but for climatic and meteorological purposes as well. The cele- 
bration of Arbor Day by the public schools in several of the older States by 
the planting of memorial trees, as originated at Cincinnati in the spring of 
1882, and generally known as the "Cincinnati plan," has done much also to 
awaken a widespread interest in the study of trees ; and this annual celebration 
promises to become as general in the public schools and among the people as 
the observance of May day in England. "Whatever you would have appear in 
the Nation's life you must introduce into the public schools." Train the youth 
into a love for trees, instruct them in the elements of forestry, and the wisdom 
of this old German proverb will be realized. 

Warren Higley, 1885. 



The trees which the children plant, or which they assist in dedicating, will 
become dearer to them as year after year rolls on. As the trees grow, and their 
branches expand in beauty, so will the love for them increase in the hearts of 
those by whom they were planted or dedicated, and long before the children 
reach old age they will almost venerate these green and living memorials of 
youthful and happy days; and as those who have loved and cared for pets will 
ever be the friends of our dumb animals, so will they ever be the friends of our 
forest trees. From the individual to the general, is the law of our nature. 
Show us a man who in childhood had a pet, and we'll show you a lover of 
animals. Show us a person who in youth planted a tree that has lived and 
flourished, and we'll show you a friend of trees and of forest culture. 

John B. Peaslee. 



FOREST SILENCE. 

THERE is a soft green darkness 'round 
Wherein the noon sleeps hushed and still, 
Only a little hidden rill 
Moves murmuring through mossy ground ; 
The doves are silent, and the bees 
Hum here no more ; the green branched trees 
Are moveless in the windless air, 
And silence broodeth everywhere. 
Harper s Magazine, September, 1884. 



''Large streams from little fountains flow 
Tall oaks from little acorns grow." 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. -^qj 



ARBOR DAY ACROSTIC. 

FOR A CLASS OF SEVEN GIRLS. 

EACH girl should be dressed in white, with shoulder sash of red, white and 
blue, and should wear real or imitation flowers of the kind represented. 

If flowers cannot be obtained, each girl should wear a coronet made of card- 
board covered with pink tissue-paper on which appears the name of the flower 
represented. The letters for the name may be cut out of gilt paper and attached 
with mucilage. 

Each girl should be provided with one of the seven letters comprised in 
A-R-B-O-R D-A-Y. These letters should be from eight to ten inches long, 
cut from heavy card-board and covered with evergreen. 

Girl representing Arbutus enters, carrying letter A, — comes well down 
in front, and recites her selection ; then places letter in position on wall back 
of stage, for which previous preparation may have been made, and takes her 
place at left center. Rose then enters, recites selection, places letter R in 
position on wall, and takes her place next to Arbutus. Others follow in order. 
After the last letter has been placed in position all recite in concert. 

A-RBUTUS. 
I am the Arbutus. 

If Spring has maids of Honor — If Spring has maids of Honor — 
And why should not the Spring, Arbutus leads the train : 

With all her dainty service, A lovelier, a fairer, 

Have thoughts of some such thing ? The Spring would seek in vain. 

R-OSE. 

I am the Rose. 

If Jove would give the leafy bowers Nursling of soft summer dawns; 

A queen for all their world of flowers. Love's own earliest sigh it breathes, 

The Rose would be the choice of Jove Beauty's brow with lustre wreathes, 

And blush, the queen of every grove, And to young zephyr's warm caresses, 

Gem, the vest of earth adorning, Spreads abroad its verdant tresses. 
Eye of gardens, light of lawns, 

B-UTTERCUP. 
I am the Buttercup. 

I'm homely and I wear the dress They say I'm but an idle weed, 
That once my mother wore ; As useless as I'm gay ; 

You may remember having seen But there was never yet a flower 
A Buttercup before ; More loyal to the May. 

Ox-eye Daisy. 

I am the Ox-eye Daisy. 

Oh welcome, welcome, queenly May But when the ail grew doubly sweet 
The Ox-Eye daisy am I ; With music and perfume, 

I kept my blossoms folded close I knew that you had come indeed, 
Beneath the April sky; And it was time to bloom. 

R-HODORA. 

I am the Rhodora. 

In May when sea-winds pierce our solitudes, The purple petals, fallen in the pool, 
We find the fresh Rhodora in the woods. Make the dark water with their beauty gay ; 

Spreading its leafless blossoms in a damp nook, Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, 
To please the desert and the sluggish brook. And court the flower that cheapens his array. 



3 o8 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



D-AFFODIL. 
I am the Daffodil. 



The dainty Lady Daffodil 

Hath donned her amber gown, 
And on her fair and sunny head 

Sparkles her golden crovvn. 



Her tall green leaves, like sentinels, 
Surround my Lady's throne, 

And graciously in happy state, 
She reigns a queen alone. 



A-STER. 

I am the Aster. 



The Autumn woods the Aster knows, 

The empty nest, the wind that grieves, 

The sunlight breaking thro' the shade, 

The squirrel chattering overhead, 

The timid rabbits lighter tread 
Among the rustling leaves. 



And still beside the shadowy glen 

She holds the color of the skies ; 
Along the purpling wayside steep 
She hangs her fringes passing deep, 
And meadows drowned in happy state 
Are lit by starry eyes ! 



Y-ellow Cowslip. 

I am the Yellow Cowslip. 



Welcome, thrice welcome ! all our friends, 

I have not much to bring, 
I'm but the Yellow Cowslip, 

The humblest flower of Spring ; 



But since before the fairest bloom, 
It must be mine to die, 

Oh, give to me one gentle smile, 
Pray, do not pass me by. 



All 



A-R-B-O-R D-A-Y. 



We are the sweet flowers, We fill the air with pleasure by our simple breath, 

Born of sunny showers, All who see us love us — 

(Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith); We benefit all places ; 

Utterance, mute and bright, Unto sorrow we give smiles — and unto graces, races. 

Of some unknown delight, 

Arranged by Edward C. Delano. 



THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. 



HE took the children by the hand, 
Tears standing in their eye, 
And bade them straightway follow him, 

And look they did not crye ; 
And two long miles he led them on, 

While the}' for food complained ; 
Staye here, quoth he, I'll bring you bread, 
When I come back againe. 



These pretty babes, with hand in hand 

Went wandering up and downe ; 
But never more could see the man 

Approaching from the town ; 
Their prettye lippes with black-berries, 

Were all besmeared and dyed, 
And when they sawe the darksome night. 

They sat them downe and cryed. 



Thus wandered these poor innocents, 

Till deathe did end their grief, 
In one another's arm's they dyed, 

As wanting due relief; 
No burial this " pretty pair " 

Of any man receives, 
Till Robin-red-breast piously 

Did cover them with leaves. 



Thomas Percy, 1765. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



309 



ROCK-A-BYE, BABY, ON THE TREE TOP. 

ROCK-A-BYE, baby, on the tree top, 
When the wind blows the cradle will rock, 
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, 
And down will come baby, cradle and all. 

Chorus. — Oh, rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, mother is near, 

Then rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, nothing to fear, 
For angels of slumber are hovering near, 
So rock-a-bye, baby, mother is here. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, the meadows in bloom 
Laugh at the sunbeams that dance in the room ; 
Echo the birds with your own baby tune 
Coo in the sunshine and flowers of June. 

Chorus. — Rock-a-bye, baby, etc. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, so cloudless the skies, 
Blue as the depths of your own laughing eyes, 
Sweet is the lullaby over your nest, 
That tenderly sings little baby to rest. 

Chorus. — Rock-a-bye, baby, etc. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, the meadows in bloom 
May never the frosts pall the beaut}' in gloom ; 
Be thy world ever bright as to-day it is seen ; 
Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green. 

Chorus. — Rock-a-bye, babv, etc. 



A wonderful thing is a seed — Plant blessings, and blessings will bloom ! 

The one thing deathless forever ! Plant hate, and hate will grow. 

The one thing changeless, utterly true, You can sow to-day, to-morrow shall bring 

Forever old, forever new, The blossoms that prove what sort of thing 

And fickle and faithless never. Is the seed — the seed that you sow." 



" The fair maid who, the first of May, 
Goes to the fields at break of day, 
And washes in dew from the hawthorn tree, 
Will ever after handsome be." 



These woods were first the seat of sylvan powers, 
Of nymphs and fawns, and savage men who took 
Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak. 



Virgil. 



r ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A 



MYSELF. 



ND I " was smart," and all the springs I knew the trees where slept the crows ; 
On all the hills could show ; And, on the water's brim, 

And if there were some grammar things I climbed among the hemlock boughs 
I didn't care to know, To watch the fishes swim. 

I always knew how many boughs I knew beside the swollen rill, 

The latest tempest broke, What flowers to bloom had burst ; 

And just how far the woodpecker And where, upon the south sloped hill, 
Had girdled 'round the oak. The berries ripened first. 

Each violet tuft, each cowslip green, 

Each daisy on the lea, 
I counted one by one, for they 

Were kith and kin to me. 

***** 

Published by James Vick, Rochester. Harriet Ellen Arey. 



IF I WERE A BIRD. 

IF I were a bird I would warble a song, If I were a flower I'd hasten to bloom, 
The sweetest and finest that ever was And make myself beautiful all the day 

heard, through, 

And build me a nest on the swinging elm With drinking the sunshine, the wind, and 
tree ; the rain ; 

Oh, that's what I'd do if were a bird. Oh, if I were a flower, that's what I'd do. 



Once as our Saviour walked with men below, 
His path of mercy through a forest lay ; 

And mark how all the drooping branches show 
What homage best a silent tree may pay. 

Only the aspen stood erect and free, 

Scorning to join the voiceless worship pure. 
But see ! He casts one look upon the tree, 

Struck to the heart she trembles evermore." 



German Legend. 



Full in the midst a spreading elm displayed 

His aged arms, and cast a mighty shade ; 

Each trembling leaf with some light vision teems, 

And leaves impregnated with airy dreams. Virgil- 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



3" 



BEAUTIFUL TREES. 

NATURE'S children, beautiful trees ! 
Whose branches bow to the gentle breeze; 
Maple, beech, oak and elm, 
In every country, in every realm, 
In lonely valley, on mountain side, 
They tower aloft in stately pride, 
In pasture, meadow and forest dell, 
Dear old landmarks ! we love them well. 

Along the highway dusty and dreary, 

How welcome their shade to the trav'ler weary; 

Beneath their green boughs in the dim twilight, 

Youth and maid oft linger their vows to plight, 

And the old, old story that ever is new 

Is told 'neath the hawthorn, maple and yew. 

Where would the birds build their curious nests, 

Humming-bird, oriole, robin red-breast; 

Away from the school boys' eyes so keen, 

Save in the tree-top's leafy screen. 

How could we build our houses grand, 

If trees grew not in every land ? 

Our beautiful trees stately and tall 

Must help to build school-house, church and hall. 

They've waved their green banners since the beginning of time, 
Their uses are many, their missions sublime, 
Pure and noble as all men should be, 
Honest and upright like a proud forest tree ; 
Let us ever be grateful for blessings like these, 
Let us honor and love God's beautiful trees. 
Smithville, N. Y., Arbor Day, 1889. A. L. R. 



ARBOR DAY. 



OFF to the woods ! Oft" to the woods ! Scamper and frolic ! Gather the flowers, 
Boys it's a grand new holiday ! Shouting our merriest roundelay; 

Off to the woods for a green young tree, The buds shall bloom, and the birds shall sing 
And we'll plant it ourselves, on Arbor Day. In the tree we plant on Arbor Day. 

Joy to the thought of our own, own tree ! 

Long may its branches shade our way; 
This task shall ever our pleasure be, 

Planting a tree on Arbor Day. 



r 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A MONUMENT OF TREES. 

EXTRACT from remarks by Prof. J. P. McCaskey, of Lancaster, Pa., editor 
of the Pennsylvania School Journal, and Principal of High School, at 
Lancaster, April 26, 1889: 

The people of a certain locality in Japan, it is said, love to tell this story of 
what is perhaps the most beautiful road in the Japanese Empire. When the 
great general and law-giver fyecsasu died, his former tributary princes vied 
with one another in rich mortuary gifts to perpetuate his memory. One daimio, 
loving and loyal, instead of the customary gift of rare bronze or wrought stone, 
to honor his dead lord, gave from his forest land, thousands of cryptomeria 
trees, which he wisely knew would be an ever-growing delight for generations 
in a densely populated region. 

These young trees, which were then but eighteen inches or more in height, 
he planted at equal distances along the two roads leading to Nikko, where the 
body of the dead prince was interred. Two hundred years have passed, and the 
trees, so small when planted, are giants now, whose branches interlock across 
the wide roadway, presenting to the traveler in either direction a vista of green 
as far as the eye can reach. Extending for thirty miles in one direction, and 
for twenty miles in another, these rows of noble trees meet seven miles from the 
temple where lie the ashes of the honored dead, and for this last seven miles a 
double row of trees is found on each side of the roadway. In describing this 
unique and very beautiful tribute of respect and affection, a recent traveler 
says : 

"Many who visit Nikko may forget the loveliness of the mountain scenery, 
the waterfalls and rushing streams, the carving and gilding of the temples, the 
soft low tone of the bells, the odor of incense and the chanting of priests, but 
few will forget their twenty miles' ride beneath the over-arching branches- of 
the stately trees. What more beautiful memorial could be suggested than this, 
which benefits rich and poor, prince and coolie, alike, while mere bronze lant- 
erns and costly but dead memorial stones are of no service except as reminders 
of a bysrone age? " 



One of the most useful trees of tropic climes is the cocoa palm. It has a 
straight, erect stem, surmounted by a tuft of great leaves. The natives obtain 
drinking water from the fruit before it is ripe ; almonds of a delicate flavor from 
the ripe fruit, milk from the nut, and a substance resembling cabbage from the 
tree. It also furnishes a delicious wine, and sugar is made from the sap. The 
wood is used to make houses, the leaves to thatch them, and to make sails, the 
net fiber to calk ships, and the oil to season meats and burn in lamps. With- 
out this tree many otherwise barren and desolate coral islands of the Pacific 
would be uninhabitable by man, bird or beast. 



" He who plants trees loves others besides himself.' 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 T 3 



A CONVENTION OF MICHIGAN TREES. 

[Prepared by the Department of Botany and Forestry of the Agricultural College of Michigan, W J 
Beal, Prof, of Botany and Forestry.] 

Norway Pine (Louie). — Fellow trees of Michigan, to organize this meeting I move the 
election of White Oak as chairman. (Seconded.) All who favor this motion please say 
aye. (Unanimous vote.) Those who are opposed will say no. The ayes have it, and 
White Oak will take the chair. 

White Oak (Julius). — Fellow trees, the object of our meeting is to consider whatever 
may be to our best interests in the forests of Michigan. It is a subject of great import- 
ance to the State and to all of us, and we hope to gain much valuable information from 
each other and to hear from every one present. 

We have gathered from all parts of the State for this conference. As we should keep a 
permanent record of our proceedings, and as the newspapers will probably wish to pub- 
lish our papers and discussions, I think a secretary will be needed to take the minutes of 
this meeting. 

Beech (Harry). — I nominate Chestnut (Lillie) to act as secretary. (Seconded.) 

White Oak. — All who favor the nomination last made will say aye. Those who are 
opposed will say no. The ayes have it, and Chestnut is elected secretary. (She takes her 
place.) 

White Oak. — Our musician, Pine (Bessie), has kindly arranged the music for us. She 
sings only when the spirits move her. We may know when that is by the peculiar sway- 
ing of her head. At the swaying let us suspend business and listen. She moves — we 
will hear "The echoes from the Forest." 

White Oak. — We are now ready for discussion. (Several trees rising at once.) 

White Oak. — Tulip tree has the floor. 

Tulip Tree (Herman). — Fellow trees, I am glad to have this opportunity to plead my 
qualifications as an ornamental tree. I grow to a great size and height and have shining, 
queer-shaped leaves and large, tulip-shaped blossoms which remind you of the sunny 
South, where my sisters, the Magnolias, live. 

Burr Oak (Joseph). — I should like to ask Tulip tree of what use he is? Michigan 
people have a right to demand of us both usefulness and beautv. 

Tulip Tree. — I am not only valuable as an ornamental shade tree, but I also furnish 
excellent timber for carriage bodies, furniture and finishing houses. Years ago my fore- 
fathers were numerous south of the Grand River Valley, and supplied wood for laths, 
shingles and lumber in the place of the white pine. Our family is a small one, repre- 
sented in Michigan by a single species. 

White Oak. — We shall be glad to hear from an)' members of the Oak family who live 
in Michigan. (Sixteen members rise.) 

White Oak. — This is certainly a large family. I recognize Chestnut as entitled to the 
floor. What claims have 3'ou to rank in the Oak family? 

Chestnut. — All botanists of the present day agree that the Beech, the Ironwood, the 
blue Beech, and the Hazels and Chestnuts are first cousins to the Oaks. I live in four 
counties in the south-east part of the State and am well known for valuable timber and a 
good crop of edible nuts. 

Beech. — Upon my smooth, gray bark many a heart history has been carved. The poet 
Campbell tells it so beautifully: 

" Thrice twenty summers have I stood, 
Since youthful lovers in my shade 
Their vows of truth and rapture paid, 
And, on my trunk's surviving- frame, 
Carved many a long forgotten name." 

And here is another beautiful thing from Whittier: 

" I have always admired the taste of the Indians around Sebago Lake, who, when 
their chief died, dug round the beech tree, swaying it down, and placed his body in the 
rent, and then let the noble tree fall back into its original place,, a green and beautiful 
monument for a son of the forest." 

I am one of the commonest and well-known trees of Michigan. 

Burr Oak. — Ten of us Oaks, out of about 300, live in this State. Brother White Oak 
is by far the most common and well known. He is the senior member of our family and 
has attained a very great age. He never thrives in perfection except in a good soil and 
in a temperate climate. The Michigan people are proud that so many of our family live 
with them. 

Tulip Tree. — White Oak is certainly loyal to his family, but I should like to hear the 
uses of his tree. 



1 4 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Burr Oak. — Every particle of him is useful, even to his ashes. His bark is used for 
tanning leather; his wood is hard, compact, heavy, tough and durable, good for heavy 
wagons, plows, railroad ties, fence posts, ship timber, furniture, and finishing the interior 
of houses. 

Swamp White Oak (Leona). — As much of my timber is so nearly like that of White 
Oak, and often passes for it, I will say, as a tree, " I am beautiful in every stage of my 
growth ; at first, light, slender, delicate and waving; at last, broad, massive and grand, 
but always graceful." 

Chestnut Oak (James). — Emerson says of White Oak: "As an ornament to the land- 
scape, or as a single object, no other tree is to be compared with it, in every period of 
its growth, for picturesqueness, majesty, and inexhaustible variety of beauty. When 
standing alone it throws out its mighty arms with an air of force and grandeur which have 
made it everywhere to be considered the fittest emblem of strength and power of resist- 
ance. Commonly the oak braves the storm to the last, without yielding, better than any 
other tree. The limbs go out at a great an<jle and stretch horizontally to a vast distance." 

Laurel Oak (John). — The famous A. J. Downing said: " There are no grander or more 
superb trees than our American oaks. We are fully disposed to concede it the first rank 
among the denizens of the forest. As an ornamental object we consider the oak the 
most varied in expression, the most beautiful, grand, majestic and picturesque of all 
deciduous trees." 

Black Jack Oak (Herbert). — Poetry, history, mythology and romance abound in 
references to the oak. I should like to hear from our fellow trees some common quota- 
tions in reference to the oak. 

White Ash (Myrtie). — "The unwedgeable and gnarled oak." 

Black Ash (Ella). — " The old oaken bucket." 

Sugar Maple (Louise). — " Jove's own tree that holds the woods in awful sovereignty." 

Red Maple (Anna). — " A goodly oak, whose boughs were mass'd with age." 

Scarlet Oak (Ben.). — " King of the woods." 

Blue Ash (Amy). — " Thy guardian oaks, my country, are thy boast." 

Silver Maple (Kate). — " The monarch oak, the patriarch of trees." 

Butternut (Burke). — "The oak for grandeur, strength and noble size, excels all trees 
that in the forest grow." 

Black Walnut (Frank). — " Tall oaks from little acorns grow." 

Buttonwood (Harrison). — 

" AVoodman, forbear thy stroke ! 
Cut not its earth-bound ties; 
Oh, spare that aged oak, 

Now towering to the skies ! " 

Sassafras (Henry). — 

" Behold yon oak, 
How stern he frowns." 

Pepperidge (Walter). — "The glory of the woods." 
Buckeye (Samuel). — 

" Proud monarch of the forest ! 

That once, a sapling bough, 
Didst quail far more at evening's breath 

Than at the tempest now. 
Strange scenes have passed, long ages roll'd 

Since first upon thy stem. 
Then weak as osier twig, spring set 
Her leafy diadem." 

Red Oak (Lulu). — I begin to feel my pride rising and hope White Oak will give me a 
chance to quote a poem written in honor of one of our family. 
White Oak — (Bows). 
Red Oak.— 

" A glorious tree is the old gray oak." 

(From " The Oak " by Geo. Hill. See Index ) 

Scarlet Oak (Otto). — That poem which Red Oak quoted reminded me of an old 
saying of Dr. Holmes: He says : " I wonder if you ever thought of a single mark of 
supremacy which distinguishes this tree from those around it ? The others shirk the 
work of resisting gravity, the Oak defies it. It chooses the horizontal direction for its 
limbs so that their whole weight may tell, and then stretches them out fifty or sixty feet 
so that the strain may be mighty enough to be worth resisting. You will find that in 
passing from the extreme downward droop of the branches of the Weeping Willow to 
the extreme upward inclination of those of the Poplar, they sweep nearly half a circle. 
At ninety degrees the Oak stops short ; to slant upward another degree would mark 
infirmity of purpose ; to bend downwacd weakness of organizatiefh.'' 

Black Oak (Ruby). — What the Oak said sounds scientific. I want to tell you some- 
thing that begins with " once upon a time." Once upon a time the devil agreed with a 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



15 



man that he should have* the latter's soul at the time when the oak leaves fell ; but when 
he came to look at the oak in the au umn he found it still in leaf, nor did it part with its 
old leaves till the new ones began to sprout. In his rage and disappointment he 
scratched the leaves so vehemently that the}' have been in consequence jagged ever 
since. 

White Oak. — These are certainly good words for the Oak family. We will next listen 
to some music from the little birds — our very dear friends. 

White Oak. — We shall next hear from the Maples, of which there are six in our State. 
They are cousins to the Buckeye, Bladdernut, and Box-elder, all of which belong to the 
Maple family. 

Sugar Maple (Louise). — I am a favorite ornamental tree. Poets of all ages have sung 
about the Oak. I am no sweet Singer of Michigan, but I am possessed of sweetness. I 
claim to have made more boys and girls happy than any other tree. I have many changes 
in dress — wearing in spring the softest shade of every color ; in the summer the purest 
emerald, and in the autumn the most brilliant yellow. My wood is used for furniture, 
floors, and for furnishing the interior of houses, and after the houses are finished few 
can warm them better than I. 

Red Maple (Mary). — I am often called Soft Maple, a name also applied to one of my 
sisters. I beautify the country in spring with early red blossoms, and in autumn my 
leaves are streaked with scarlet. 

Silver Maple (Jennie). — My sister Red Mapie and myself are both called Soft Maple. 
I make a very rapid growth and am found by the side of streams. I am often planted 
as a shade tree, and in the far West many are planted for shelter belts and for timber. 

Bass Wood (Maud). — I am a fine shade tree, my home a moist, rich soil. My fragrant 
flowers furnish a great amount of excellent hone}' for the bees at a time when most other 
flowers have disappeared. My timber is soft, light and touarh. and not apt to split, good 
for cabinet work, boxes, broom handles, etc. 

Black Cherry (Ethel). — With our beautiful blossoms we need not be envious of the 
orange groves of California. I am one large snowball cf blossoms in the spring. My 
fruit is much liked by the birds, and my wood is fine, light, durable and looks much like 
mahogany. My cousins are the wild plum, crab-apple, mountain ash, hawthorn, June- 
berry, spiraea, the apple, pear, quince, and the peach, and we all belong to the Rose 
family. 

Black Walnut (Frank). — I am not ornamental, nor am I a good neighbor, for I some- 
times poison other trees that live near me. In spite of my bad qualities, I am liked 
because I can be converted into cash at any moment. Some of my brothers have sold as 
high as $2,000. Those who care for us care for a fortune. My relative, the Butternut, 
is much loved by boys and girls. It was round my brother at Haverstraw, on the Hud- 
son, that General Wayne mustered his forces at midnight, preparatory to his attack on 
Stony Point. 

Hickory (Rav). — There are four brothers of us in Michigan, but I am the least worthy 
of them all, and am the only one present at this convention. We are cousins of the Wal- 
nut and Butternut and all belong to the Walnut family. If you want a wood that is good 
for buggies, ax handles, barrel hoops, a wood like iron, call upon my brother the Shag- 
bark. You will have all the nuts you want thrown into the bargain. Once upon a time 
there was a president of the country who had so many of mv qualities that they called 
him Old Hickory. 

White Oak. — We will sing about the " echo which in the forest dwells.'' 

White Oak. — We will next hear a few words from the Ashes. (Three rise and stand 
till all are through.) 

White Ash (Myrtie). — I am a tall tree and have often been complimented for my use- 
fulness. I have been told that I have a graceful top and beautiful pinnate leaves. My 
wood is heavy, hard, strong, coarse-grained, compact, and of a brown color, and is much 
used for cabinet ware, farm implements, and house finishing. I thrive on rich moist soil. 

Blue Ash (Amy). — I am not often found in Michigan. I grow slowly and attain a 
good size. My wood is valuable for lumber, posts and sills. I may be distinguished 
from all other Ashes by the square branches of a year's growth. 

Black Ash (Ella). — I thrive in swamps and along streams, and become a large, useful 
tree. My wood is used for furniture, barrel-hoops and baskets. When well cared for, I 
become one of the finest ornamental trees. For this purpose I have never been fully 
appreciated. The Ashes belong to the Olive family. We have been called musical, as 
in this quotation: 

" Ye Ashes wild resounding o'er the steep, 
Delicious is your music to the soul." 

White Oak. — Who will speak next ? (A number rise.) Birch has the floor. 

Birch (William). — I am a useful factor in the cause of education, though not now so com- 
monly found in the school-room as in former years. There are five sisters of us Birches 
in Michigan. The Alders are our cousins. Probably you are best acquainted with the 



3 i6 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Canoe Birch, whose white wood you see in spools and shoe pegs. It gives up its beauti- 
ful white dress without any injur}' to itself. Longfellow has made us a celebrated family 
in Hiawatha. He says of us: 

" Give me of your bark, O Birch tree ! " 

(From " The Story of Hiawatha." See Index.) 

White Oak. — Let us hear from the Elms. 

American Elm ;Lida). — I have been called the Queen of the Forest, and stand without 
a rival at the head of the list of ornamental deciduous leaved trees. I claim this rank on 
account of hardiness, rapid growth, and the graceful and majestic beauty of my drooping 
branches. We are very proud of our Massachusetts relative under whose venerable 
shade Washington first took command of the Continental army, July 3. 1775. How the 
affection of every lover of his country clings around that tree! What care has been 
taken of it, what marks of esteem have been shown it by the citizens of Cambridge, may 
be judged by those who have seen it standing, as it does, in the center of a great public 
thoroughfare, its trunk protected by an iron fence from injury by passing vehicles, which 
for more than a century have turned out in deference to this monarch of the Revolution. 

Red Elm (Claude). — I am well known for my durable red wood and mucilaginous 
bark and am often called " Slippery Elm." My sister. Rock Elm, is a fine tree with 
corky branches, and the wood is valuable for farm implements. 

Hackberry (Otis). — I am one of the poor cousins of the Elms, and am little known. I 
am sometimes called the Nettle tree, and I am afraid Michigan people are not on speak- 
ing terms with me. Allow me to tell you about my German relative, the Luther Elm, 
near Worms. It is said to have been planted as follows: A bigoted old Catholic lady, 
thrusting a stick in the ground, declared her resolution not to accept the new faith till 
that dry stick became green. The fact that it did so proved the interest taken by trees 
in the preservation of orthodox) - . 

Red Mulberry (Robert). — I am another obscure cousin of the Elms and not often seen 
in Michigan. The birds are fond of my berries and the wood is as valuable as cedar for 
posts. Let me praise the Elm. 

" Hail to the Elm ! the brave old Elm ! 

Our last lone forest tree, 
Whose limbs outstand the lightning's brand, 

For a brave old Elm is he ! 
For fifteen score of full-told years, 

He has borne his leafy prime, 
Yet he holds them well, and lives to tell 

His tale of the olden time ! " 

White Oak. — Let us all repeat the lines of N. S. Dodge in praise of the Queen of the 

Forest. 

" Then hail to the Elm ! the green-topp'd Elm ! 
And long may his branches wave, 
For a relic is he, the gnarl'd old tree, 
Of the times of the good and brave." 

White Oak. — We will have another song about the birds (or any other subject). 

White Oak. — We have heard nothing from the Willows. 

Willow (Marion). — I live near the water and my wood is made into the strangest things, 
artificial limbs, tooth-picks, ball clubs and gunpowder. Some of us are called " Pussy 
Willows." 

Elizabeth Allen has written this lovely poem to my sister, the Weeping Willow of 
Europe, who has been for years mourning something to us unknown. 

" O, Willow, why forever weep, 

As one who mourns an endless wrong ? 
What hidden woe can lie so deep ? 

What utter grief can last so long ? 
Mourn on forever, unconsoled. 

And keep your secret, faithful tree 
No heart in allthe world can hold 

A sweeter grace than constancy." 

The Poplar (Cara). — There are five sisters of us Poplars who live in Michigan. One is 
called Cotton Wood, and two are called Aspens. We are cousins of the Willows and all 
belong to the Willow family. I will read some lines of the poets: 

" Why tremble so, broad Aspen-tree ? 
Why shake thy leaves ne'er ceasing ? 
At rest thou never seem'st to be, 

For when the air is still and clear, 
Or when the nipping gale, increasing, 

Shakes from thy boughs soft twilight's tear, 
Thou tremblest still, broad Aspen-tree, 
And never tranquil seem'st to be." 






ARBOR DAY MA N UAL. 3 I 7 

White Oak. — We ought to hear from Red Bud and Sassafras and Pepperidge and But- 
tonwood or Sycamore, who live in our forests, but they do not appear to be present at 
this convention. Our exercises would not be complete without hearing from the mem- 
bers of the Pine family or cone-bearing trees. 

White Pine (Sylvia). — I am one of the tallest and largest, most common, well-known 
and valuable trees of the State. In Europe, where some of my number have been intro- 
duced, they often call me Weymouth Pine. My leaves are long, light green and in clus- 
ters of five. As a long-lived and beautiful tree for ornamenting rural grounds and parks, 
I take a high rank, while an immense amount of valuable lumber is cut from my wood. 

White Oak. — Let us hear from another Pine of Michigan. 

Red Pine (Naoma. ) — I am often called Norway Pine, though I do not know why. I 
never lived in Norway but am only found in North America. I am a tall, straight tree, 
with long evergreen leaves in clusters of two. I grow slowly, making valuable timber 
which is much harder than that of White Pine. For ornamental purposes I much re- 
semble Austrian Pine, though much superior to that tree, if we rely on the opinions of 
noted horticulturists. 

White Oak. — The White Pine and Red Pine have a sister Pine in Michigan. We shall 
now give her an opportunity to speak. 

Gray Pine (Rose). — I am a tree of small size, found on poor land in Northern Michi- 
gan. When young my growth is rapid; my leaves grow in pairs and are quite short. 
My wood abounds in pitch. I am known by a variety of names, as Scrub Pine, Jack 
Pine, Buckwheat Pine, Black Pine, Crocodile Pine, but the name I like the best is Pinus 
Banksiana. 

I want to tell you what Ruskin says: " The tremendous unity of the pine absorbs and 
molds the life of a race. The pine shadows rest upon a nation. The Northern people, 
century after century, lived under one or other of the two great powers of the pine and 
the sea, both infinite. They dwelt amidst the forests or they wandered on the waves, and 
saw no end or any other horizon. Still the dark green trees, or the dark green waters 
jagged the dawn with their fringe or their foam, and whatever elements of imagination 
or of warrior strength or of domestic justice were brought down by the Norwegian or the 
Goth against the dissoluteness or degradation of the south of Europe, were taught them 
under the green roofs and wild penetralia of the pine." 

White Oak. — We have another cone-bearing tree in attendance. I call on 

Hemlock Spruce (Agnes). — I have been called by students in art and botany and horti- 
culture " the most beautiful coniferous hard}' tree yet known." I grow to a good height 
and acquire a large size. My evergreen leaves have delicate tints, my young branches 
droop gracefully. As a timber tree I do not claim the highest honor. My bark is valu- 
able for tanning leather. 

White Oak. — There are two other sister evergreens called " Spruces " I see in the 
audience. 

Black Spruce (Rhoda). — I abound in swamps in Northern Michigan. I am often used 
for Christmas trees on festive occasions, and boys and girls search me over for a supply 
of first-class gum. I am not responsible, though, for all the gum that goes by my name. 
Within a few years my wood has been largely used to make white paper. 

White Oak. — ■ I recognize another evergreen. I call on 

Red Cedar (Clara). — In summer my leaves are beautiful, but in winter they become 
brown. I am found only sparingly in any part of the world, though I am the mojt widely 
distributed of any tree in the United States. I grow slowly and produce a beautiful red, 
fragrant wood, which is soft and very durable. My wood is now mainly limited to the 
making of lead pencils. 

White Oak. — Let us next hear from 

Balsam Fir (Alice). — I am a rather small, slender evergreen found in swamps, though 
often cultivated as an ornament about dwellings. I arrive at my prime when about four- 
teen years old. 

White Oak. — I shall now call on 

Arbor Vitse (Maud). — I thrive in the swamps of the North and afford shelter to wild 
animals. I am often called white cedar and I furnish most of the telegraph poles, some 
fence posts, railway ties and blocks for paving streets. I take a high place as an orna- 
mental tree. 

White Oak. — We have now heard from all of the cone-bearing evergreen trees who are 
present. There is another tree of the State, not here present, which is cone-bearing, and 
belongs to the Pine family. I refer to the Tamarack. 

There are some other matters appropriate to Arbor Day which should demand our 
attention at this time. How do the trees of Michigan compare in beauty and variety 
with those of Great Britain of which we read so much? 

Susie. — The farther north we go the fewer kinds of trees we find; the farther south, 
the greater the variety. Great Britain and Ireland contain more than twice the area of 
Michigan. They have one bassvvood, not so good as ours ; one very small maple, one 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



cherry, one small ash, two elms, two poplars, one beech, one small birch, one pine, one 
oak much like our white oak. Great Britain has about ten species of trees native to her 
soil, while Michigan, with half the territory, has about ninety species, or nine times as 
great a variety. 

White Oak. — For some interesting points in reference to nuts and seeds I call on 
Red Maple. — Last autumn the hazels, beeches, chestnuts, oaks, hickories, walnuts 
and buckeyes matured their fruit, and with this maturing the burs, or cups, or husks, 
opened or the stems snapped in two at a joint which began to form months before. If a 
bur or nut held fast too tenaciously, the frost made it willing to drop, and down it went 
with hundreds of others, among the leaves. 

The leaves, with the help of the shifting winds, gently covered the fruit — or some 
portions of it. The leaves make the best kind of protection from dry air and severe 
cold, and they come just at the right time. All the seeds are not covered, but Dame 
Nature is generous. She produces an abundance; enough for seed and enough to feed 
the birds, squirrels, and other animals. 

White Oak. — We want to hear a word about Nature's tree-planters, the squirrels, 
birds and other animals. 

Basswood — The squirrels eat many nuts, but carry a portion to some distance in every 
direction, where they plant one or two in a place. It may be the thought of the squirrel 
to return at some future time of need, but his bump of locality is not well developed or 
he has laid up more than he needed. At all events some of the nuts are allowed to 
remain where he planted them. In this way he is a benefit to the trees, and pays for the 
nuts which he eats. He has not lived in vain, for he is a tree-planter and believes in 
arboriculture. His Arbor days come in autumn, and he needs no gubernatorial message 
to stimulate him to work. 

White Oak. — This subject will be continued by 

White Spruce (Adeline). — Many of our trees and shrubs produce a fleshy fruit or 
berry. Among them are the mountain ash, service berry, wild crab apple, hawthorn, 
cherry, holly, viburnum, pepperidge, hackberry, mulberry, sassafras, wild plum, per- 
simmon, paw paw, cedars and junipers. Many of these when ripe are rendered con- 
spicuous by brilliant colors. The fruits are eagerly sought by grouse, turkeys, deer, 
bear, and other animals. In most cases the seeds of such fruits are protected by a very 
firm covering and are not digestible. They are sown broadcast by wild animals under 
circumstances most favorable for germination. The birds, too, belong to the society of 
tree planters. 

White Oak. — We will next listen to some accounts of the wind as a sower of seeds. 
Sassafras (lona). — Some trees produce dry seed or seed-pods, and usually drop only a 
portion in autumn. They hold on to some seeds with considerable tenacity. Among 
these are the buttonwood, basswood, ironwood, blue beech, box-elder, hop tree, tulip 
tree, the ashes, catalpa, locust, Judas tree, birches, alders, larches, pines, spruces. The 
fruit or the seed is thin, or provided with wings, which distribute them as they fall, or 
after they have fallen. In winter it needs but a slight packing of the snow to bear up the 
seeds. At such times, some of the seeds are torn from the trees by the wind, and may 
be seen sliding along like miniature ice boats, often half a mile or more from the nearest 
tree. The wind also aids in transporting the seeds of our elms, maples, willows and 
poplars. 

White Oak. — Next listen to something more about seeds. 

Red Bud (Cynthia). — A seed is a young plant and is packed ready for transportation. 
It has a tiny stem, some seed leaves and a terminal bud. The mother tree before casting 
off her progeny into the world, did not fail to give it a little outfit in the form of starch 
for food stored up in or surrounding the thick seed leaves. As the young chicks while 
in the shell are nourished by the yolk of the egg, so the young oak or maple subsists on 
the starch stored up before ripening. 

White Oak. — When do our trees make their growth and how do they get ready for the 
next year? 

Box Elder (Nina). — Most of our trees put forth their new growth during a few weeks 
in spring or early summer. Do 3-011 wonder what they are doing during the rest of the 
warm weather? They are by no means idle. They may be perfecting flowers and seeds, 
but all of them are getting ready for the next winter and spring. Through the influence 
of light and heat, the green leaves are forming starch, which is transported and stored 
in the pith, voung wood and bark. The young leaves and stems are started and 
arranged, packed in cotton, covered by scales and in some cases the scales are protected 
by pitch or varnish. 

White Oak. — Next in order will be a few words in regard to the tree as a community. 

Buckeye (Douglass). — A tree is a composite being, a kind of community by itself. 

The leaves and limbs are all the time striving with each other to see which shall have the 

most room and the most sunshine. Each strives for all it can get. While some perish 

in the attempt or meet with only very indifferent success, the strongest of the strongest 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



319 



buds survive. Each leaf helps to sustain the limb which carries it, and each limb fur- 
nishes some nourishment to the common trunk for the common welfare. The tax is 
always adjusted according to the ability of each to contribute. As the limbs of a tree are 
striving for the mastery, so each bush and tree in grove or forest is striving with others 
for the mastery. The weakest succumb to the strongest ; some perish early, some lead 
a feeble existence for man)' years, while even the strongest are more or less injured. 
With plenty of room, the trunk will be short, the branches many and widespread ; where 
crowded the lower limbs perish for want of light. Dead limbs fall to the ground to pro- 
tect and enrich it for nourishing the surviving limbs and the trunk. The scars heal over, 
more limbs perish as new ones creep upward, and thus we find tall, clean trunks in a 
dense forest. 

White Oak. — To be successful, it is very important to know how to gather and care 
for seeds and nuts. 

Yellow Wood (Robert). — Gather the seeds or nuts of trees when ripe and, if con- 
venient, plant them where the trees are expected to remain. In this list we include 
especially the trees which have long tap roots, and do not easily transplant, such as the 
tulip tree, the hickories, the oaks, the walnuts and chestnuts. The seeds of elms and 
maples are not easily kept over winter. Seeds of evergreens, the larch, and the locusts 
may be dried and kept as grain is kept. Many seeds and nuts may be mixed with an 
equal bulk of sand as it is dug from a knoll, and buried a few inches or a foot below 
the surface. In spring they may be carried to the garden and planted. Soak seeds of 
locust and honey locust in hot water till the outer covering softens, and then plant. 
Soak seeds of evergreens three or four days in water, changed daily, and then plant very 
shallow in rows a few inches apart in rich loam, well screened by lath, brush or muslin. 
See that weeds do not rob the young plants of light, room and nourishment. Evergreens 
in small quantity, when small and two or three years old, can be purchased of experts 
more cheaply than they can be raised at home. These can be set in rows and cultivated 
for a few years like Indian corn. For further details you are advised to read copies of 
our State horticultural reports, take lessons of a nurseryman, or go to the Agricultural 
College. 

White Oak. — It is of little use to plant seeds or buy trees, unless we know how to 
handle them while moving. 

Kentucky Coffee Tree (Hiram). — In taking up a tree, whether large or small, do not 
twist it about so as to break or bend the roots abruptly. Get all the roots vou can afford 
to, remembering that a tree will not grow without roots. 

When out of the ground keep the roots constantly covered with soil, moss, damp 
straw or something else. The roots are far more sensitive to dry air than the parts above 
ground. No one need wonder that trees carted into town with short roots exposed to dry 
air, often fail to grow, or lead a precarious life for years. Study the structure and the physi- 
ology of a tree and treat it as one who always makes everything thrive which he cares for. 

White Oak. — How shall we care for the trees after planting? 

Apple Tree (Hannah). — To set a tree so as to insure its thrifty growth, place it but 
little deeper than it was while growing. Have the soil well pulverized and pack it 
closely about the tree. 

After all this trouble, do not court disappointment in the slow growth or in the death 
of a favorite tree, but dig or rake the ground every week or two, all summer for three to 
five years, for a distance of four feet or more each way from the tree. If this is imprac- 
ticable, place a mulch of something covering the space above mentioned. 

White Oak. — After planting, trees sometimes become too thick. What shall we do? 

Pear Tree (Andrew). — A tree, like a child, is a living, organized being and keeps 
changing as long as life lasts. It is not best merely to set as many trees as we expect to 
remain for a life-time, but plant them more thickly with a view to removal. Here is 
where ninety-nine out of one hundred fail. They do not keep an eye on the growth and 
trim or remove trees until they have crowded and damaged each other beyond recovery. 
In most instances, a few large, well-developed trees should grow where many small ones 
were planted years before. It needs courage and judgment to remove some favorite 
trees that others may continue to spread and make a symmetrical growth. 

White Oak. — Next will follow something in reference to the flowers of trees. 

Bitternut (Silas). — With rare exceptions, our trees bear flowers which, are incon- 
spicuous. The elms and the maples produce flowers in spring before the leaves appear. 
Most have the staminate and pistillate flowers on different parts of the tree or on differ- 
ent trees. The wind or gravity carries the pollen to the pistil, so there is no need of 
sweet odors or a gay display of flowers to attract bees and butterflies and moths to carry 
the pollen. Compensation is well displayed in nature. If the tree has not gorgeous or 
fragrant flowers, it has a large size and often a beautiful form. 

White Oak. — We should learn to love trees and to associate them with the generous 
hand who planted and cared for them. 

Wild Plum (Ezra). — I will tell you something which was written by Washington Irving: 
"There is something noble, simple and pure in a taste for trees. It argues, I think, a 



,20 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and 
this friendship for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of 
thought connected with this part of rural economy. It is worthy of liberal and free-born 
and aspiring men. He who plants an oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for 
posterity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot expect to sit in its shade 
nor enjoy its shelter ; but he exults in the idea that the acorn which he has buried in the 
earth shall grow up into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing and increasing and 
benefiting mankind long after he shall have ceased to tread his paternal fields." 

White Oak. — We will hear what O. W. Holmes says on this subject. 

Tamarack (Elias). — Dr. O. W. Holmes says: " I have written many verses, but the 
best poems I have produced are the trees I planted on the hill-side which overlooks the 
broad meadows, scalloped and rounded at their edges by loops of t*./e sinuous Housa- 
tonic. Nature finds rhymes for them in the recurring measures of the seasons. Winter 
strips them of their ornaments and gives them, as it were, in prose translation, and sum- 
mer reclothes them in all the splendid phrases of their leafy language. 

"What are these maples and beeches and birches but odes and idyls and madrigals? 
What are these pines and firs and spruces but holy rhymes, too solemn for the many-hued 
raiment of their gay deciduous neighbors? 

"As you drop the seed, as you plant the sapling, your left hand hardly knows what 
your right hand is doing. But nature knows, and in due time the power that sees and 
works in secret will reward you openly." 

White Oak. — This concludes what we had on the program for this convention. 

Hemlock. — I move we have some more music and then adjourn. 

White Oak. — If there be no objections we shall have the music. 

White Oak. — This convention stands adjourned until again convened by the proper 
authorities. 



Written for the "Arbor Day Manual. 

PLANT THE OAK. 



COME plant the Oak, the grand old Oak, 
England's ancestral tree ! 
They call her sailors " hearts of oak," 
For bravery on the sea. 

America, the rebel child, 

Outgrown the Mother's hand, 

May call her soldiers "hearts of oak," 
For bravery on the land. 

South Sod us, iV. Y. 



Her flag is known in every land, 

Her ships plow every sea ; 
She pays no tribute, holds no slaves, 

Her children all are free. 

Then plant the Oak, the brave young Oak! 

'Twill thrive in freedom's clime 
And spread its greenest banners out 

To the breeze in glad spring-time. 

Mrs. Addie V. McMuelex. 



WHEN to the flowers so beautiful 
The Father gave a name, 
Back came a little blue-eyed one 

(All timidly it came;) 
And standing at its Father's feet 
And gazing in His face 



FORGET-ME-NOT. 

It said, in low and trembling tones: 

" Dear God, the name thou gavest me, 
Alas ! I have forgot," 

Kindly the Father looked him down 
And said : "Forget-me-not." 



I know not which I love the most, The pansy in her purple dress, 

Nor which the comeliest shows, The pink with cheek of red, 

The timid, bashful violet, Or the faint fair heliotrope, who hangs, 

Or the royal hearted rose : Like a bashful maid, her head; 

For I love and prize you one and all, 

From the least low bloom of spring 
To the lily fair, whose clothes outshine 

The raiment of a king. Phcebe Cary. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. , 2 T 



TREES. 

TREES are indeed the glory, the beauty, and the delight of nature. * * * 
In what one imaginable attribute, that it ought to possess, is a tree, pray, 
deficient? Light, shade, shelter, coolness, freshness, music, all the colors of 
the rainbow, dew and dreams dropping through their umbrageous twilight at 
eve or morn, dropping direct, soft, sweet, soothing, and restorative, from 
heaven. * * * 

We love you all ! And love you all we shall, while our dim eyes can catch 
the glimmer, our dull ears the murmur, of the leaves, or our imagination hear, 
at midnight, the far-off swing of old branches groaning in the tempest. * * * 

Not that we hold it to be a matter of pure indifference how people plant 
trees. We have an eye for the picturesque, the sublime, and the beautiful, and 
cannot open it without seeing at once the very spirit of the scene. O, ye who 
have had the happiness to be born among the murmurs of hereditary trees ! 
Can ye be blind to the system pursued by that planter — Nature ? Nature 
plants often on a great scale, darkening, far as the telescope can command the 
umbrage, sides of mountains that are heard roaring still with hundreds of 
hidden cataracts. And Nature often plants on a small scale, dropping down 
the stately birk so beautiful, among the sprinkled hazels, by the side of the 
little waterfall of the wimpling burnie, that stands disheveling there her 
tresses to the dew-wind, like a queen's daughter, who hath just issued from a 
pool of pearls and shines aloft and aloof from her attendant maidens. 

But man is so proud of his own works that he ceases to regard those of 
Nature. Why keep poring on that book of plates, purchased at less than half 
price at a sale, when Nature flutters before your eyes her own folio, which all 
who run may read; although to study it as it ought to be studied, you must 
certainly sit down on mossy stump, ledge of an old bridge, stone-wall, stream- 
bank, or broomy brae, and gaze, and gaze, and gaze, till woods and sky become 
like your very self, and your very self like them, at once incorporated together 
and spiritualized. After a few 3 r ears' such lessons you may become a planter; 
and under your hands not only shall the desert blossom like the rose, but 
murmur like the palm, and if "southward through Eden goes a river large," 
and your name be Adam, what a sceptic not to believe )rourself the first of 
men, your wife the fairest of her daughters Eve, and your policy Paradise ! 

Professor Wilson, 



Let dead names be eternized by dead stone, 

Whose substance time cannot increase nor mar ; 

Let living names by living shafts be known, 
That feel the influence of sun and star. 

Plant thou a tree, whose griefless leaves shall sing 
Thy deed and thee, each fresh unfolding spring. 

Edith M. Thomas. 

21 



322 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



WHAT DO WE PLANT? 

WHAT do we plant when we plant the tree ? 
We plant the ship, which will cross the sea. 
We plant the mast to carry the sails ; 
We plant the plank to withstand the gales. 
The keel, the keelson, and beam and knee ; 
We plant the ship when we plant the tree. 

What do we plant when we plant the tree ? 
We plant the houses for you and me. 
We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors, 
We plant the studding, the lath, the doors, 
The beams and siding, all parts that be ; 
We plant the house when we plant the tree. 

What do we plant when we plant the tree ? 
A thousand things that we daily see. 
We plant-the spire that out-towers the crag, 
We plant the staff for our country's flag. 
We plant the shade, from the hot sun free ; 
We plant all these when we plant the tree. 



Henry Abbey, 



DEAR ELM, IT IS OF THEE. 



DEAR Elm it is of thee, 
Emblem of dignity, 
Of thee we sing. 
Now do we children raise, 
Songs of most joyful praise. 
To thee our choicest lays, 
We now do bring. 



Let hills and vales resound, 
Our hearts with rapture bound, 

As round thee cling, 
More graceful than the vine, 
More cheering than the wine, 
School joys of '89 

Our mem'ries bring. 



Hail our dear school to thee, 
May Buffalo never see 
Thy prestige less ; 
May true ones throng thy halls, 
May trained ones leave thy walls, 
Summoned by world-wide calls, 
Mankind to bless. 
Sung at the Le Couteulx St. Mary's Institution for the Improved Instruction of Deaf- 
Mutes. Buffalo, May 3, 1SS9. 



"There is an Arabian proverb that, with the planting of a tree, a blessing 
comes to him who drops the seed." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 



323 



ARBOR DAY. 

NOW a strong, fair shoot, from the forest bring, 
Gently the roots in the soft earth lay ; 
God bless with His sunshine, and wind and rain, 
The tree we are planting on Arbor Day. 

May it greenly grow for a hundred years ; 

And our children's children beneath it play, 
Gather the fruit and rest in the shade 

Of the tree we are planting on Arbor Day. 

So may our life be an upward growth, 
In wisdom's soil every rootlet lay, 

And every tree bearing precious fruit, 

Like the tree we are planting on Arbor Day. 



ARBOR DAY AND THE CHILDREN. 

EXTRACT from an address delivered at Lancaster, Pa., April 16, 1885, by 
Hon. E. E. Higbee, late State Superintendent of Public Instruction of 
Pennsylvania : 

While we would by no means neglect on such an occasion to call attention to 
the great economic use of forests, the perils attending their wanton destruction, 
the necessity of prompt and watchful care lest through the rapid march of civi- 
lization we bring upon ourselves the very evils we seek to avoid, and consume 
what earth so freely gives us without any thought that she may be so impover- 
ished at last as to seek alms of us — for the growth of forests requires years, 
but their destruction scarcely a day — while we would not neglect reflections 
such as these, and would keep up from year to year a spirited and concerted 
action against our dangers by planting along roadsides, in parks and yards, and 
arou'nd every school building, trees, and shrubs, and vines, and flowers ; vet we 
would, with special emphasis, call the children to a wholesome converse with 
Nature herself; would withdraw them from the restraints of books and recita- 
tion tasks, and woo them to her shady haunts, her valleys and hills, to deepen 
in their souls a sense of her life and a delight in her beauty, and some clear and 
sympathetic feeling of perpetual companionship ; * * * they should learn 
to love Nature with such tender reverence as never to abuse or profane her; 
and, inspired by such love, the)'- should seek her help in making home, or 
school, or village, or city, a comforting delight, a culturing power, a presence 
of beauty through life. 



"Jock, when ye hae naething else to do, ye may be sticking in a tree; it will 
be growing, Jock, when ye're sleeping." 

HigJihmd Laird of Scotland. 



- 2/ . ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



A DISCOURSE ON TREES. 

TO the great tree-loving fraternity we belong. We love trees with uni- 
versal and unfeigned love, and all things that do grow under them, or 
around them — "the whole leaf and root tribe." Not alone where they are in 
their glory, but in whatever state they are — in leaf, or ruined with frost, or 
powdered with snow, or crystal-sheathed in ice, or in severe outline stripped 
and bare against a November sky — we love them. Our heart warms at the 
sight of even a board or a log. A lumber yard is better than nothing. The 
smell of wood, at least, is there, the savory fragrance of resin, as sweet as 
myrrh and frankincense ever was to a Jew. If we can get nothing better, we 
love to read over the names of trees in a catalogue. Many an hour have we 
sat at night, when after exciting work, we needed to be quieted, and read nur- 
serymen's catalogues, and Lopdon's Encyclopedias, and Arboretum, until the 
smell of the woods exhaled from the page, and the sound of leaves was in our 
ears, and sylvan glades opened to our eyes that would have made old Chaucer 
laugh and indite a rapturous rush of lines. 

But how much more do we love trees in all their summer pomp and pleni- 
tude. Not for their names and affinities, not for their secret physiology, and as 
material for science, not for any reason that we can give, except that when 
with them we are happy. The eye is full, the ear is full, the whole sense and 
all the tastes solaced, and our whole nature rejoices with that various and full 
happiness which one has when the soul is suspended in the midst of Beetho- 
ven's symphonies and is lifted hither and thither, as if blown by sweet sounds 
through the airy passage of a full heavenly dream. 

Our first excursion in Lenox was one of salutation to our notable trees. We 
had a nervous anxiety to see that the axe had not hewn, nor the lightning 
struck them; that no worm had gnawed at the root, or cattle at the trunk; 
that their branches were not broken, nor their leaves failing from drought. We 
found them all standing in their uprightness. They lifted up their heads 
towards heaven, and sent down to us from all their boughs a leafy whisper of 
recognition and affection. Blessed be the dew that cools their evening leaves, 
and the rains that quench their daily thirst ! May the storm be as merciful to 
them when in winter it roars through their branches, as is a harper to his harp ! 
Let the snow lie lightly on their boughs, and long hence be the summer that 
shall find no leaves to clothe these nobles of the pasture ! 

First in our regard, as it is in the whole nobility of trees, stands the white 
elm, no less esteemed because it is an American tree, known abroad only by 
importation, and never seen in all its magnificence, except in our own valleys. 
The old oaks of England are very excellent in their way, gnarled and rugged. 
The elm has strength as significant as they, and a grace, a royalty, that leaves 
the oak like a boor in comparison. Had the elm been an English tree, and 
had Chaucer seen and loved and sung it; had Shakespeare and every English 
poet hung some garlands upon it, it would have lifted up its head now, not only 
the noblest of all growing things, but enshrined in a thousand rich associations 
of history and literature. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. n 2 C 

Who ever sees a hawthorn or a sweet brier (the eglantine), that his thoughts 
do not, like a bolt of light, burst through ranks of poets, and ranges of spark- 
ling conceits which have been born since England had a written language, and 
of which the rose, the willow, the eglantine, the hawthorn, and other scores of 
vines or trees, have been the cause, as they are now and forevermore the sug- 
gestors and remembrancers ? Who ever looks upon an oak, and does not think 
of navies, of storms, of battles on the ocean, of the noble lyrics of the sea, of 
English glades, of the fugitive Charles, the tree-mounted monarch, of the 
Heme oak, of parks and forests, of Robin Hood and his merry men, Friar 
Tuck not excepted ; of old baronial halls with mellow light streaming through 
diamond-shaped panes upon oaken floors, and of carved oaken wainscotings. 
And who that has ever traveled in English second-class cushionless cars has 
not other and less genial remembrances of the enduring solidity of the imper- 
vious unelastic oak ? 

One stalwart oak I have, and only one, yet discovered. On my west line is a 
fringe of forest, through which rushes, in spring, trickles in early summer, and 
dies out entirely in August, the issues of a noble spring from the near hill-side. 
On the eastern edge of this belt of trees stands the monarchical oak, wide- 
branching on the east toward the open pasture and the free light, but on its 
western side lean and branchless from the pressure of neighboring trees ; for 
trees, like men, cannot grow to the real nature that is in them when crowded 
by too much society. Both need to be touched on every side by sun and air, 
and by nothing else, if they are to be rounded out into full symmetry. Grow- 
ing right up by its side, and through its branches is a long wifely elm — beauty 
and grace imbosomed by strength. Their leaves come and go together, and 
all the summer long they mingle their rustling harmonies. Their roots pasture 
in the same soil, nor could either of them be hewn down without tearing away 
the branches and marring the beauty of the other. And a tree, when thor- 
oughly disbranched, may, by time and care, regain its health again, but never 
its beauty. 

Under this oak I love to sit and hear all the things which its leaves have to 
tell. No printed leaves have more treasures of history or of literature to those 
who know how to listen. But, if clouds kindlv shield us from the sun, we love 
as well to crouch down on the grass some thirty yards off, and amidst the fra- 
grant smell of crushed herbs, to watch the fancies of the trees and clouds. 
The roguish winds will never be done teasing the leaves, that run away and 
come back, with nimble playfulness. Now and then a stronger puff dashes up 
the leaves, showing the downy under surfaces that flash white all along the up- 
blown and tremulous forest edge. Now the wind draws back his breath, and 
all the woods are still. Then some single leaf is tickled, and quivers all alone. 
I am sure there is no wind. The other leaves about it are still. Where it gets 
its motion I cannot tell, but there it goes fanning itself and restless among its 
sober fellows. By and by one or two others catch the impulse. The rest hold 
out a moment, but soon catching the contagious merriment, away goes the 
whole tree and all its neighbors, the leaves running in ripples all down the 
forest side. I expect almost to hear them laugh out loud. A stroke of wind 
upon the forest, indolently swelling and subsiding, is like a stroke upon a hive 



326 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



of bees, for sound ; and like stirring a fire full of sparks for upspringing 
thoughts and ideal suggestions. The melodious whirl draws out a flittering 
swarm of sweet images that play before the eye like those evening troops of 
gauzy insects that hang in the air between you and the sun, and pipe their own 
music, and flit in airy rounds of mingled dance as if the whole errand of their 
lives was to swing in mazes of sweet music. 

Different species of trees move their leaves very differently, so that one may 
sometimes tell by the motion of shadows on the ground, if he be too indolent 
to look up, under what kind of tree he is dozing. On the tulip-tree (which has 
the finest name that ever tree had, making the very pronouncing of its name 
almost like the utterance of a strain of music — liriodendron tulipiferd) — on 
the tulip-tree, the aspen, and on all native poplars, the leaves are apparently 
Anglo-Saxon or Germanic, having an intense individualism. Each one moves 
to suit itself. Under the same wind one is trilling up and down, another is 
whirling, another slowly vibrating right and left, and others still, quieting them- 
selves to sleep, as a mother gently pats her slumbering child; and each one 
intent upon a motion of its own. Sometimes other trees have single frisky 
leaves, but, usually, the oaks, maples, beeches, have community of motion. 
They are all acting together, or all are alike still. 

What is sweeter than a murmur of leaves, unless it be the musical gurgling 
of water that runs secretly and cuts under the roots of these trees, and makes 
little bubbling pools that laugh to see the drops stumble over the root and 
plump down into its bosom ! In such nooks could trout lie. Unless ye would 
become mermaids, keep far from such places, all innocent grasshoppers, and 
all ebony crickets ! Do not believa in appearances. You peer over and know 
that there is no danger. You can see the radiant gravel. You know that no 
enemy lurks in that fairy pool. You can see every nook and corner of it, and 
it is as sweet a bathing pool as ever was swam by long-legged grasshoppers. 
Over the root comes a butterfly with both sails a little drabbled, and quicker 
than light he is plucked down, leaving three or four bubbles behind him, fit 
emblems of a butterfly's life. There ! did I not tell you ? Now go away all 
maiden crickets and grasshoppers ! These fair surfaces, so pure, so crystalline, 
so surely safe, have a trout somewhere in them lying in wait for you ! 

But what if one sits between both kinds of music, leaves above and water 
below? What if birds are among the leaves, sending out random calls, far- 
piercing and sweet, as if they were lovers saying, " My dear, are you there?" 
If you are half reclining upon a cushion of fresh new moss, that swells up be- 
tween the many-plied and twisted roots of a huge beech tree, and if you have 
been there a half an hour without moving, and if you will still keep motionless- 
you may see what they who only walk through forests never see. * * * 

Thus do you stand, noble elms ! Lifted up so high are 5 ? our topmost boughs, 
that no indolent birds care to seek you ; and only those of nimble wings, and 
they wlch unwonted beat, that love exertion, and aspire to sing where none 
sing higher. Aspiration ! so Heaven gives it pure as flames to the noble bosom- 
But debased with passion and selfishness it comes to be only Ambition ! 

It was in the presence of this pasture-elm, which we name the Queen, that 
we first felt to our very marrow, that we had indeed become owners of the 



A RBOR DA Y MANUAL. ? 2 j 

soil ! It was with a feeling of awe that we looked up into its face, and when I 
whispered to myself, "This is mine," there was a shrinking as if there were 
sacrilege in the very thought of property in such a creature of God as this 
cathedral-topped tree! Does a man bare his head in some old church? So 
did I, standing in the shadow of this regal tree, and looking up into that com- 
pleted glory, at which three hundred years have been at work with noiseless 
fingers ! What was I in its presence but a grasshopper? My heart said "I may 
not call thee property, and that property mine ! Thou belongest to the air. 
Thou art the child of summer. Thou art the mighty temple where birds praise 
God. Thou belongest to no man's hand, but to all men's eyes that do love 
beauty, and that have learned through beauty to behold God ! Stand, then, in 
thine own beauty and grandeur ! I shall be a lover and a protector, to keep 
drought from thy roots, and the axe from thy trunk." 

For, remorseless men there are crawling yet upon the face of the earth, 
smitten blind and inwardly dead, whose only thought of a tree of ages is, that 
it is food for the axe and the saw! These are the wretches cf whom the 
Scripture speaks : " A man was famous according as he had lifted up axes upon 
the thick trees." 

Thus famous, or rather infamous was the last owner but one, before me, of 
this farm. Upon the crown of the hill, just where an artist would have planted 
them, had he wished to have them exactly in the right place, grew some two 
hundred stalwart and ancient maples, beeches, ashes, and oaks, a narrow belt- 
like forest, forming a screen from the northern and western winds in winter, 
and a harp of endless music for the summer. The wretched owner of this 
farm tempted of the Devil, cut down the whole blessed band and brotherhood 
of trees, that he might fill his pocket with two pitiful dollars a cord for the 
wood ! Well, his pocket was the best part of him. The iron furnaces have 
devoured my grove, and their huge stumps that stood like gravestones, have 
been cleared away, that a grove may be planted in the same spot, for the next 
hundred years to nourish into the stature and glory of that which is gone. 

In other places I find the memorials of many noble trees slain ; here, a hem- 
lock that carried up its eternal green a hundred feet into the winter air; there, 
a huge double-trunked chestnut, dear old grandfather of hundreds of children 
that have for generations clubbed its boughs, or shook its nut-laden top, and 
laughed and shouted as bushels of chestnuts rattled down. Now, the tree 
exists only in the form of looped-holed posts and weather-browned rails. I do 
hope the fellow got a sliver in his fingers every time he touched the hemlock 
plank, or let down the bars made of those chestnut rails ! 

To most people a grove is a grove, and all groves are alike. But no two 
groves are alike. There is as marked a difference between different forests as 
between different communities. A grove of pines without underbrush, car- 
peted with the fine-fingered russet leaves of the pine, and odorous of resinous 
gums, has scarcely a trace of likeness to a maple woods, either in the insects, 
the birds, the shrubs, the light and shade, or the sound of its leaves. If we 
lived in olden times among yonng mythologies, we should say that pines held 
the imprisoned spirit of naiads and water-nymphs, and that their sounds were 
of the water for whose lucid depths they always sighed. At any rate, the first 



328 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



pines must have grown on the sea-shore, and learned their first accents from 
the surf and the waves; and all their posterity have inherited the sound, and 
borne it inland to the mountains. 

I like best a forest of mingled trees, ash, maple, oak, beech, hickory, and 
evergreens, with birches growing along the edges of the brook that carries itself 
through the roots and stones, toward the willows that grow in yonder meadow. 
It should be deep and sombre in some directions, running off into shadowy re- 
cesses and coverts beyond all footsteps. In such a wood there is endless variety. 
It will breathe as many voices to your fancy as might be brought from any 
organ beneath the pressure of some Handel's hands. By the way, Handel and 
Beethoven always remind me of forests. So do some poets, whose numbers 
are various as the infinity of vegetation, fine as the choicest cut leaves, strong 
and rugged in places as the unbarked trunk and gnarled roots at the ground's 
surface. Is there any other place, except the sea side, where hours are so 
short and moments so swift as in a forest ? Where else, except in the rare 
communion of those friends much loved, do we awake from pleasure, whose 
calm flow is without a ripple, into surprise that whole hours are gone which we 
thought but just begun — blossomed and dropped, which we thought but just 
budding ! 

Henry Ward Beecher. 



SPRING-TIME. 

' r I MS spring-time, bright spring-time ! all nature is gay; 
1 For winds cold and piercing have all passed away ; 
And now the bright sunshine gives warmth to the air, 
And changes delightful are seen everywhere. 

The farmer with keen plow is tilling the ground, 
Then seeds with his hand he will scatter around ; 
The little birds build their warm nests in the trees, 
And twitter and chirp as they fly in the breeze. 

The buds on the hedge-rows all open out so, 
And gay-colored blossoms begin now to grow ; 
The daisies, and cowslips, and primroses sweet, 
We make into bouquets, so pretty and neat. 

The call of the bluebird so joyous doth rise, 

As cheerful and happy now onward he flies ; 

The lambkins are skipping and running with glee, — 

A pleasing example to you and to me ! 



" Yon sturdy oak whose branches wide 
Boldly the storms and wind defy, 
Not long ago, an acorn small, 
Lay dormant 'neath a summer sky." 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 329 



HOW ARBOR DAY IS OBSERVED IN VARIOUS STATES. 

THE information centained in the following pages was largely obtained from 
responses to a recent request made to State Superintendents, and from 
their annual reports : 

ALABAMA. — February 22 is Arbor Day in this State. It is net established 
by law, but has been observed since 1886. The Superintendent of Public In- 
struction issued a stirring circular, January 18, 1887, recommending that every 
school plant at least one memorial tree ■ — to be named and cared for by the 
school. The Superintendent writes that several thousand trees have been 
planted, but that the day " is not as generally observed as it should be." 

ARKANSAS. — No response from State Superintendent ; no data found in 
annual reports. 

CALIFORNIA. — The day is not yet observed. Superintendent of Public 
Instruction, Ira G. Hoitt, writes, Nov. 27, 1889 : " I recommended that an Arbor 
Day be legally established by the last Legislature, but we had so much other 
legislation to accomplish on educational subjects, that we had no time to press 
the matter. It will yet be done." 

COLORADO. — Arbor Day has been observed pursuant to a special procla- 
mation of the Governor for the past six years, and about 300,000 trees have 
been planted. In 1889, a law was passed designating the third Friday in April 
in each year. The day is a holiday in the public schools of the State. The Gov- 
ernor is to issue a proclamation, and the State Superintendent and county su- 
perintendents are instructed to promote by all proper means the observance of 
the day, and reports are to be made to the State Forest Commissioner. 

CONNECTICUT.— The law of 1886 provides that the Governor shall annually, 
in the spring, designate, by proclamation, an Arbor Day, to be observed in the 
schools, and for economic tree-planting. Usually a day late in April or early in 
May is designated. In 1887 and 1888, the Secretary of the State Board of Edu- 
cation issued elaborate suggestions, with selections for program. Since that 
date it has been left to the Secretary of the Board of Agriculture. 

DELAWARE. — No response from State Superintendent; no data found in 
annual reports. 

FLORIDA. — Arbor Day is fixed by proclamation of the Governor, usually 
in February (in 1889011 Feb. 14), and the Superintendent of Public Instruction 
issues a circular to county superintendents, who in turn communicate with the 
teachers. The Superintendent writes that thousands of children, as well as 
great numbers of patrons and people participate in the exercises. (See program 
for 1890, under Specimen Programs.) 

ILLINOIS. — The law of 1887 provides that the Governor shall annually, in 
the spring, designate by proclamation a day to be known as "Arbor Day." 
The State Superintendent also issues a circular and suggests a program. (See 



^ ^ Q ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 

" Specimen Programs.") Ten thousand school districts observed the day in 
1889. Following is an extract from Governor Fifer's proclamation of 1889: 
"Let the children in our schools, the young men and women in our colleges, 
seminaries and universities, with their instructors, co-operate in the proper 
observance of the day by planting shrubs, vines and trees that will beautify the 
home, adorn the public grounds, add wealth to the State, and thereby increase 
the comfort and happiness of our people." 

INDIANA. — This State has two Arbor Days — one in April and one in No- 
vember of each year, established in 1884. The State Superintendent issues a 
circular recommending its observance. The practice is growing in favor, and 
local pride is increasing. The latest biennial report gives some interesting 
selections for general use. 

IOWA. — Arbor Day was established in 1882. The law provides that the 
board of directors in each district, township and independent district, should set 
out twelve or more shade trees on each school-house site. Timely suggestions 
by the State Superintendent are issued in circulars fixing a day late in April or 
early in May. The "Loyal Leaflet," issued in 18S9, by Superintendent Sabin 
was a choice contribution to Arbor Day literature, combining patriotism and 
tree-planting very happily. 

KANSAS. — The date is fixed by proclamation by the Governor. No further 
information received from State Superintendent or annual reports. 

KENTUCKY.— From a letter dated Dec. 30, 1889, from Superintendent Jos. 
Desha Pickett, the following extract is made : 

1. Arbor Day was instituted in this State by joint resolution of the General 
Assembly, March 31, 1886. 

2. Attention was duly called to the day by Governor Knott and then by 
Governor Buckner. 

3. The Superintendent of Public Instruction has suggested that the act of the 
General Assembly of March 31, 1886, be so amended as to direct its observance 
by the school children of the Commonwealth, but not as a legal holiday. 

4. Many of our leading citizens are deeply interested in the cause of forestry, 
knowing its imperative importance. 

LOUISIANA. — No response from State Superintendent; no data found in 
annual reports. 

MAINE. — No response from State Superintendent; no data from annual re- 
ports. 

MARYLAND. — The day was established by law in 1884. The Governor is 
authorized and directed to issue a proclamation annually, designating a day in 
April. The law especially directs the planting of forest shade trees along public 
roads and around school-houses. The Superintendent of Public Instruction 
issues a circular in addition to the proclamation of the Governor. About five 
thousand trees are planted annually. Although the joint resolution was passed 
in 1S84 no proclamation was issued until 1888. The observance was very gen- 
eral and enthusiastic. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



MASSACHUSETTS.— The last Saturday in April is fixed by law as "Arbor 
Day," and was established in 1886. The Governor issues a proclamation, and 
programs are prescribed by local superintendents. The day is observed espec- 
ially by the school children, but is also observed by the people general!)-, in 
accordance with the proclamation. There are no data as to the number of trees 
planted. 

MICHIGAN. — The following concurrent resolution was approved March 

26, 1885: 

Resolved, That the Governor is hereby requested to call the attention of the 
people of this State to the importance of planting trees for ornament and shade, 
by naming a day on which this work shall be given special attention, to be 
known as " Arbor Day." 

Superintendent Joseph Estabrook writes November 25, 1889: "There is no 

uniformity in the manner of observing the da} - . Last spring a large number 

of the graded schools observed it with appropriate exercises. No record is made 

of the number of trees planted." 

MINNESOTA. — The day has been observed since 1885, but is not established 
by law. The Governor issues a proclamation fixing the day (usually in April — 
in 1889, April 26), and the Superintendent of Public Instruction supplements 
the proclamation with a circular. There were 6,394 trees planted in 188S, and 
39,395 in 1889. 

From Governor Merriam's proclamation of 1889, the following extract is 

made : 

"The day possesses the rare feature of being one of pleasure to those who 
participate in the work to which it is dedicated, and of being in far greater 
degree, fruitful in blessings to the children, the children's children, and the 
generations to follow." 

MISSISSIPPI.— (Not observed.) 

MISSOURI — Arbor Day established by law in 1886 — the first Friday after 
first Tuesday in April. The Superintendent of Public Schools issues a circular 
annually, calling attention to the law and suggesting the character of exercises. 
About 27,000 trees have been planted. 

NEBRASKA. — To this State belongs the distinction of inaugurating the 
observance of Arbor Day, and she has also been the most industrious in this 
direction, adding to sentiment, something practical. Ex-Governor J. Sterling 
Morton was an earnest advocate of the plan, and millions of growing trees are 
the silent outgrowth of his enthusiasm. The statutes of Nebraska designate 
April 22, as Arbor Day ; the Governor usually issuing a proclamation, followed 
by a circular from the State Superintendent, who occasionally submits a pro- 
gram. Prizes are given for planting the largest number of trees. The school 
authorities try to have trees in every school-yard. The day is made a school 
holiday to all schools observing the day. Nearly 400,000,000 trees have been 
planted in this State under this law and practice. 

NEVADA. — Arbor Day was established by law, February 10, 1887, and pro- 
vides that the Governor shall fix a day by proclamation. A day in April was 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



designated in each of the years 1887 and 1888. In a letter dated December 5, 
1889, Superintendent Dovey says: "Owing to the great scarcity of water, 
and the unusual drought, which has prevailed during the last two years, the 
observance of the day has been little more than a formality, but some good has 
resulted, and better things are hoped for." 

NEW HAMPSHIRE. — No response from State Superintendent ; no data 
from annual reports. 

NEW JERSEY. — Arbor Day was established in 1884, and the day is fixed 
by the Governor, usually about the middle of April. The State Superin- 
tendent is directed to issue the necessary circulars of information. Programs 
are prepared by county and city superintendents. The latest report shows 
great interest in the day, in the schools, throughout the State. The report of 
County Superintendent John Terhune of Bergen county is especially full and 
interesting. 

NEW YORK.— By chapter 196 of the Laws of 1888, the Friday following 
the first day of May was designated as Arbor Day in this State. The law was 
passed too late to provide for an observance under its provisions in 1888, but 
on May 3, 1889, there was a very general observance, The law provides that 
the Superintendent of Public Instruction shall prescribe and publish a course 
of exercises to be observed in all the schools. The program of 1889 contained 
many original poems and songs. (See New York Program, under " Specimen 
Programs. '') Fifty thousand programs and fifty thousand song supplements 
were printed and circulated through commissioners and superintendents. 
Outside the cities 5,681 school districts reported as having observed the day, 
and 24,166 trees were planted, besides vines, shrubs and flowers. Everybody 
participating in the exercises was invited to vote for a " State Tree." The 
returns received showed that the "Sugar Maple " received forty-three per cent 
of all votes cast — the oak being second, and the elm third. The birch, for 
some reason, was not a favorite. The program for 1890 will include a request 
for a similar vote for a " State Flower." 

NORTH CAROLINA. — (Not observed.) 

OHIO No response from State Commissioner. No data from annual 

reports. The day seems, however, to have been established by law, as shown 
by the Governor's proclamation in 1889, designating April 26 as Arbor Day. 
The State Commissioner also issued a circular in 1889 urging a general observ- 
ance of the day, heretofore confined largely to the cities and towns. The 
reports of the Superintendent of the Cincinnati schools shows an active inter- 
est in Arbor Day in that city. The day was first observed in 1882 under the 
direction of Superintendent John B. Peaslee, who aroused much enthusiasm, 
and who contributed through the United States Commissioner of Education 
the first published pamphlet of Arbor Day literature. The Cincinnati reports 
contain much interesting matter relating to the subjeet. 

OREGON. — Arbor Day established by law February 25, 1889. Section 69 
of title 7 of the School Laws of Oregon is as follows : "The second Friday in 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. , + 3 

the afternoon in April of each year shall hereafter be known throughout this 
State as Arbor Day." The Superintendent of Public Instruction will issue his 
first Arbor Day circular in April, 1890. 

PENNSYLVANIA.— This substantial State is doubly blessed. Two Arbor 
Days were established by law in 1885, one day in April to be named by proclama- 
tion of the Governor, and one in October to be named by the Superintendent of 
Public Instruction. The day is generally observed and several hundred thou- 
sand trees have been planted. The late Superintendent Higbeewas an earnest 
and enthusiastic friend of Arbor Day. His annual circulars and addresses 
given fully in the Penns)dvania School Journal show his deep interest in the 
work, and his success is due to the faithful service he rendered. Were it pos- 
sible, it would be interesting to give here extracts from Dr. Higbee's stirring 
circulars, and interesting addresses, but they form a volume in themselves. In 
his good work in this direction, which will long be associated with his memory, 
he was assisted by Prof. J. P. McCaskey, editor of the Pennsylvania School 
Journal, who has given the subject more prominence in his journal than any 
other publication in the country. 

RHODE ISLAND. — Arbor Day is observed to some extent. It was estab- 
lished in 1887, but no particular day is fixed. Section 1 of chapter 641 of the 
Laws of 1887 says: " Such day as the Governor of the State ma}- appoint as 
'Arbor Day,' shall be a holiday," etc. 

Superintendent Thos. B. Stockwell writes, Nov. 22, 1889: " Under the direc- 
tion of the local school boards, more or less notice is taken of the day by the 
schools. Aside from them little attention is paid to it. Our State is so small 
and yet so varied in its makeup of town and country, that it is impossible to 
secure very much concerted action. There is a growing feeling among our 
school authorities in favor of utilizing the day to improve the surroundings of 
the school-houses, and I think, it will ultimately do a good work." 

SOUTH CAROLINA.-(Not observed.) 

TENNESSEE.— Arbor Day was established by law in 1887, making it the 
duty of the county superintendents of schools to set apart some day in No- 
vember, to be observed in all the public schools. Trees to be planted around 
school buildings, with appropriate ceremonies, " that the day may be one of 
pleasure as well as of instruction for the young." The State Superintendent 
issues a circular, but details are left to county officers. 

TEXAS. — By an act approved February 22, 1889, Washington's birthday was 
set apart as "Arbor Day." 

VERMONT.— Although Arbor Day has not been established by law, it has 
been observed in the large towns since 1885. Proclamation is made by the 
Governor, designating and recommending a day to be observed. From the 
first proclamation, issued by Governor Pingree in 1885, the following is taken: 
"The love of Vermonters for trees and groves should show itself along every 
thoroughfare and wayside ; upon the village green .and city park ; around the 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



school-house and by the academy ; the grounds of the home should be taste- 
fully adorned with the maple, the oak and the elm, and thereby made scenes of 
lovelier memories." 

VIRGINIA. — Superintendent John L. Buchanan says, under date of Nov. 
27, 1889: "The day is not observed in this State. I am decidedly in favor of 
establishing 'Arbor Day ' by law, and I propose to recommend such a measure 
in my forthcoming annual report. Everybody ought to be a friend both to the 
present and future generations of trees." 

WEST VIRGINIA.— Under date of November 23, 1889, Superintendent 
B. S. Morgan says: " It has been the custom since 1883, for the State Superin- 
tendent to appoint a day to be observed by the public schools as Arbor Day, 
but since there is nothing compulsory in its observance, it has not been gen- 
erally observed. Good has been accomplished, however, and many trees are 
planted each year. The first Friday in November is the da}- usually selected. 
Our purpose is to secure the establishment of an Arbor Day by law as soon as 
possible." 

WISCONSIN.— In 1889, .the Legislature passed an act authorizing the 
Governor to designate an Arbor Day. Superintendent J. B. Thayer writes, 
November 23, 1889: "Arbor Day occurs on April 30. The law was published 
at so late a date this year, that there was no time for the preparation of a suit- 
able program. For a State which is as prodigal of its forest trees as Wisconsin, 
considerable has been done, even before the enactment of the law, in the way 
of planting trees for the adornment of school grounds." 



What conqueror in any part of ''life's broad field of battle" could desire a 
more beautiful, a more noble, or a more patriotic monument than a tree planted 
by the hands of pure and joyous children, as a memorial of his achievements ? 

What earnest, honest worker with hand and brain, for the benefit of his fel- 
low-men, could desire a more pleasing recognition of his usefulness than such a 
monument, a symbol of his or her productions, ever growing, ever blooming, 
and ever bearing wholesome fruit? 

How significant and suggestive is the dedication of a young tree as a monu- 
ment. 

Lossing. 



Who does his duty, is a question 

Too complex to be solved by me ; 

But he, I venture the suggestion, 

Does part of his that plants a tree 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. « -, r 



HOW AN APPLE TREE GROWS. 

WHEN a young seed begins to grow it starts with one little cell. This cell 
is a kind of round bag, or tiny bladder. It is hollow, and has in it a 
sort of jelly. 

Those who study plants can with their microscopes watch just how the 
young seed grows. When first they observe the tiny sack, or cell, it is not 
larger than the point of a pin. They can see it grow larger, but even when it 
is full grown it is no larger than the dot over this letter /. 

Next, they can see a very thin wall — thinner than the thinnest paper — grow- 
ing inside of the little cell. This wall, or partition, grows quite across from 
one side to the other, making two little cells of it. 

After this, a partition grows in each of these two cells, making four. And 
so the seed goes on growing, by each of the cells dividing into two or more. 

All plants grow in this way. But each plant will grow according to its own 
seed. The seed of a turnip will begin to grow with one cell, and then make 
cell after cell, with all the cells packed pretty close together. But all these 
cells will grow together in such a way as to make a turnip-plant. An acorn 
will grow in the same way ; but all its cells will grow together in such a way as 
to make an oak tree. 

Think of a large apple tree. First it began with a tiny cell in the bottom of 
a pistil of an apple blossom. Out of this cell grew two other cells. Then out 
of them grew more cells. And so they kept on until the whole seed was ripe. 

Now here is something very curious. All those little cells in that little apple 
seed grew in such a way that they actually made a little apple tree inside of 
that little seed. There they made a minute pair of leaves, and a minute point 
of a root. When the tiny cells had their tiny plant completed the seed was ripe. 

The apple fell from the tree, the seed entered the ground, and in the spring 
the wet in the soil below, and the heat from the sun above, burst open the seed. 
Then out came the little point of a root, and, not liking the light, grew down- 
wards into the ground. 

But while the little point of a root was doing this, the little pair of leaves, 
folded up in the seed, also began to grow, and, loving the light, pushed their 
way up where they could feel the warm sunshine. 

There the little pair of leaves spread out. Then up between them grew the 
little stem. Then more leaves came out ; and still the stem kept pushing up, 
and still more leaves kept coming. 

Moreover, while the plant was growing above ground, the little root under 
ground was branching and growing larger, and with all its fine young hollow 
hairs was sucking up the water from the soil, to go up to the leaves, which 
took in the air that some of it might mix with the sap to make the very stuff 
that forms the little cells. 

The roots and leaves work together to build up the plant. The roots take 
water from the ground ; but that alone would not make cells. The cells must 
have carbon ; and this the plant obtains mostly from the air, by breathing it 
through the leaves. 



33$ 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



So, whatever the plant may be — a great forest-tree or a spear of grass — its 
cells are made of carbon and water. The whole tree is made of these cells, — 
trunk, roots, branches, leaves, flowers, fruit. 

Look at a great oak tree. Can it be that that immense plant is made of 
nothing but a mass of tiny cells not larger than the dot of an i — and not so 
large ? It can be. It is so. 



PUSSY WILLOW. 

THE brook is brimmed with melting snow, 
The maple sap is running, 
And on the highest elm a crow 

His black wings is sunning. 
A close green bud the Mayflower lies 

Upon its mossy pillow ; 
And sweet and low the south-wind blows, 
And through the brown fields calling goes, 

" Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! " 
Within your close brown wrapper stir; 
Come out and show your silver fur ; 

" Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! " 

Soon red will bud the maple-trees, 

The bluebirds will be singing, 
And yellow tassels in the breeze 

Be from the poplars swinging; 
And rosy will the Mayflower lie 

Upon its mossy pillow ; 
But you must come the first of all, — 
'Come, Pussy!" is the south-wind's call, — 

" Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! " 
A fairy gift to children dear, 
The downy firstling of the year, — 

Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



337 



gpedmen Programs. 



SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 

Selections marked thus * are given in this volume. See Index. 

Song — *" Forest Song." ----- W. H. Venable. 

Reading of the Governor's Proclamation by the clerk of the district. 

Recitation — " God Everywhere in Nature." - - Carlos Wilcox. 

Recitation — *" A Forest Hymn." - Bryant. 

Essay — " Forest Trees in Illinois." - 

Recitation — *" The Daisy." - Montgomery. 

Recitation — *" The Use of Flowers." - - Mary Howitt. 

Essay — "Flowers, the Friends of Trees." 

Recitation — "Flowers." ... - Thomas Hood. 

Recitation — " The Violet." ----- W.W.Story. 

Song — " To the Woodland, Away ! " - 

Recitation — * " The Voice of the Grass." - - Sarah Roberts. 

Essay — " Our Grasses." - 

Essay — " Climbing Vines and Plants." - - - 

Recitation — *" The Ivy Green." ... Dickens. 

Song — *" Woodman, Spare that Tree." ... 

Essay — " The Beauty of Trees." - 

Recitation — *" The Primeval Forest." - - - Longfellow's Evangeline. 

Essay — "Historic Willows." (Suggestions: "Arnold's Willow," opposite West 
Point ; " Gates' Willow," New York City ; "Alex. Pope's Willow," Twickenham.) 

Essay — "Historic Oaks." (Suggestions: "The Big Tree" at Geneseo, N. Y.; 
" The Charter Oak," at Hartford, Connecticut.) 

Song — "Come to the Greenwood." 

Recitation — *" The Tree." - - . Jones Very. 

Essay — " Liberty Elms." (Suggestions: " Old Liberty Elm," Boston; "Washing- 
ton Elm," Cambridge ; " Penn's Elm," Philadelphia.) 

Essay — " My Favorite Tree is the Elm." Discussion upon this essay by four others, 
presenting their favorites in the Oak, Sycamore, Beech, and Poplar. 

Address — " The School-house a Home, and Our Duty to Beautify It." By the teacher 
or one of the parents. 

Song — " America." 

From Western School yournal. 
22 



33& 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPECIMEN PROGRAM 

School No. 5, Elmira, N. Y., i88< 
Music — "Arbor Day." .... - 

Declamation — " Tree Planting Day." - 

Planting Tree. ...... 

Dedicating Tree to George Washington. - 
Recitation — " Tribute to Washington." - 
Declamation — " The Wistaria." ... 

Planting Wistaria Vine. .... 

Music — " Auld Lang Syne." .... 

Essay — " Vine Planting." 

Planting Woodbine. ..... 

Music — "Columbia." - 

Declamation — " Arbor Day." 
Planting Ivy. ..... 

Music — " Marching Song." 

Concert Recitation and Planting Vine. 

Music — " Planting Vine." .... 

Recitation and Planting English Ivy. 

Planting Vine. ..... 

Planting Vine. ..... 

Planting Vine. ..... 

Recitation by Class in Costume. 

Planting Vine. ..... 

Music — "America." - - . - 



School. 
Eighth Grade. 



Seventh Grade. 

Seventh and Eighth Grades. 

Sixth Grade. 
Sixth Grade. 



Fifth Grade. 
School. 
Room No. 6 
Room No. 5 
Room No. 4 
Room No. 3 
Room No. 2 
Room No. 1 
Fourth Grade 
Fourth Grade 
School. 



SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 

Arsenal Street School, Watertown, N. Y., 1889. 
Selections marked thus * given in this volume. See Index. 

Reading the Scriptures. ....... 

Music — " Celebrate the Arbor Day." .... 

Class Recitation — "What the Flowers Said." - 

Recitation — *" Planting the Apple Tree." - 

Music — *" Swinging 'Neath the Old Apple Tree." - 

Class Recitation — * " Voice of the Grass." ... 

Declamation — *" Woodman, Spare that Tree." 

Concert Reading — *" The Forest Hymn." - 

Music— " Mill May." ....... 

Recitation — " Joyous Arbor Day." .... 

Declamation — *" How the Leaves Come Down." 

Music — " Song for the Oak." ..... 

Recitation — *" Bring Flowers." - - - 

Recitation — *" The Ivy Green." 

Recitation — " Tale of Two Trees." - 

Declamation — *" The Flower of Liberty." 

Class Reading — "Flowers." ------ 

Solo — *" The Old Mountain Tree." 



- School. 

- School. 
School. 



School. 



School. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



339 



SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 

Mohawk Academy, 1889. 
Selections marked thus * given in this volume. See Index. 

Music — "America." ..... The School. 

Reading of Scripture. • 

Prayer. ....... 

Reading of Law establishing Arbor Da}'. 

Reading of Circular Issued by Department of Public Instruction. 

Music — " Summer Song." - - 

Recitation — *" The Secret." - 

Recitation — " Address to the Robin." 

Recitation — * " Kind Words." 

Music — " Maiden's Song." 

Recitation — *" Waiting for the May." 

Recitation — "The Song of the Sparrow." 

Recitation — " 'Tis Spring-Time." 

Music — " Hunting Four-Leaved Clover." 

Recitation — *" April." - 

Recitation — " May Flowers." 

Recitation — *" The Oak." .... 

Music — " Marseillaise Hymn." - 

Dialogue — "Flowers." .... 

Music — " The Watch on the Rhine." 

Declamation — " The Origin and History of Arbor Day." 

Recitation — " Trees, the Homes of Birds" 

Essay — " Modifying Influences of Trees." 

Essay — "Trees, an Encouragement to Rain Fall." 

Essay — " Protection afforded by Trees." 

Music — *" Arbor Day Tribute." 

Address. ...... 

Music — *" The Brave Old Oak." - 
Voting for State Tree. 
Appointment of Committee on Tree. 
Naming and Planting the Tree. 
Music — " The Tree Song." 



Primary Department. 



Intermediate Department. 



Intermediate Department. 



The School. 
Eight Girls. 
The School. 



The School. 
Solo. 

The School. 



" Loud through the air resounds the woodman's stroke, 
When, lo ! a voice breaks from the groaning oak, 
Spare, spare my life ! a trembling virgin spare ! 
Oh, listen to the Hamadryad's prayer ! 
No longer let that fearful axe resound ; 
Preserve the tree to which my life is bound. 
See, from the bark my blood in torrents flows ; 
I faint, I sink, I perish from your blows. 
Apollonins Rhoditis. 



o.q ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 

Prepared by Professor Edward Hayward, Clyde, N. Y., 1889. 
Selections marked thus * given in this volume. See Index. 

I. Music — "The Arrow and the Song." 

II. Essay— "The Day We Celebrate." - - 

III. Quotations — *" The Flowers." - - - Scholars from 2d Grade. 

IV. Recitations — * " Historic Trees." - - Scholars of 5th and 6th Grades. 
V. Music — * " Swinging 'Neath the Old Apple Tree." 

VI. Essay — "Woodman, Spare that Tree." 
VII. Recitation — *" Woodman, Spare that Tree." 
VIII. Recitations — "The Autumn Leaves." - - Scholars from 1st Grade. 
IX. Music — " Come to the Wild Wood." 
X. Recitation — Prelude. ----- 

XI. Quotations- — "* Trees. Scholars of 3rd and 4th Grades. 

XII. Recitation — * " The Last Tree of the Forest." 
XIII. Music — " Come to the Forest." - 

About the Tree. 
I. Oration. ....--.--- 

II. Chorus. Class of Girls 



SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 

St. Augustine, Florida. 

PROGRAM, FEBRUARY, 1S90. 

Prepared and furnished by Superintendent Walter E. Knibloe. 

Part First. 

1. Song. 

2. Reading of Proclamation. 

3. Essay — " Why we Celebrate ? " 

4. Essay — "Use of Trees." 

5. Essay — "Enemies of Trees." 

6. Song. 

Part Second. 

Dedication of trees to the following : H. W. Longfellow, O. W. Holmes, J. G. 
Whittier, Washington Irving, Alice and Phoebe Cary, B. J. Lossing. 

Part Third. 

1. Dialogue — " Facts from Home and Abroad." 

Characters — Uncle Sam, The forty-two States and Territories, France, Spain, 
Germany, Italy, Palestine, China, and the American Indian. 

2. Remarks by visitors. 

3. Voting for State Tree. 

4. Song. 

5. Benediction. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



341 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



PRELIMINARY CIRCULAR, 1889. 

ARBOR DAY, 1889. 

STATE OF NEW YORK. 

Department of Public Instruction, ) 

Superintendent's Office, Albany, March 21, 1889. ) 
To the Press and the Public : 

The Legislature of 1S8S enacted the following law, approved by the Governor April 30, 1888 : "An Act 
to Encourage Arboriculture," Chapter 166. 

The People 0/ the Stale 0/ New York, represented in Senate and Assembly, do enact as folloivs : 

Section i. The Friday following the first day of May in each year shall hereafter be known throughout 
this State as Arbor Day. 

§ 2. It shall be the duty of the authorities of every public school in this State, to assemble the scholars in 
their charge on that day in the school building, or elsewhere, as they may deem proper, and to provide for 
and conduct, under the general supervision of the City Superintendent or the School Commissioner, or other 
chief officers having the general oversight of the public schools in each city or district, such exercises as 
shall tend to encourage the planting, protection and preservation of trees and shrubs, and an acquaintance 
with the best methods to be adopted to accomplish such results. 

§ 3. The State Superintendent of Public Instruction shall have power to prescribe from time to time, in 
writing, a course of exercises and instruction in the subjects hereinbefore mentioned, which shall be 
adopted and observed by the public school authorities on Arbor Day, and upon receipt of copies of such 
course, sufficient m number to supply all the schools under their supervision, the School Commissioner or 
City Superintendent aforesaid shall promptly provide each of the schools under his or their charge with a 
copy, and cause it to be adopted and observed. 

§ 4. This act shall take effect immediately. 

The first general observance of Arbor Day in this State, under this act, will be on Friday, May 3, 1889 
and the duty is imposed upon the State Superintendent of Public Instruction to prescribe a course of exer- 
cises to be observed in the schools of the State in carrying out the spirit of the law. 

A program will be published not later than April 15, next, giving somewhat in detail a general plan for 
the information and guidance of those contemplating a formal observance of the day by literary exercises 
or otherwise. This program will give simple directions in reference to the transplanting of trees, and will 
also give such information as may be obtained, touching the kind of trees most suitable for transplanting, 
care and treatment of trees, etc. 

Preliminary to the publication of such program, the Superintendent invites suggestions from all who are 
specially interested in the subject, as to the proper arrangement of a course of exercises, what it should in- 
clude, etc., to the end that the observance of the day may be an occasion of interest and benefit to all the 
people, and especially to the school children of the State. 

Pending any further announcement, the following observations and recommendations are submitted : 

The plain intent of the law is to encourage the planting, protection and preservation of trees and shrubs, 
with such other features as will tend to impress upon the minds of all the desirability of beautifying school 
grounds, and of doing something to overcome the destruction of trees made necessary by the demands of 
business and commerce. Something should be done to make more attractive and comfortable the many 
thousand school-grounds of the State which now lack a tree or shrub, either for use or ornament. The 
spirit of the law will be complied with, certainly, at first, by setting out trees about school grounds, dedi- 
cating them to distinguished scholars, educators, statesmen, generals, historians or poets, or to people or 
children closely identified with the schools. Where school-house grounds are already sufficiently pro- 
tected and beautified, or where school-grounds are so limited as to leave no room for tree planting, trees 
may be planted along the approaches to school-grounds, or in any appropriate place to be selected by the 
school authorities. It is hoped that where school-grounds are too limited to admit trees, that the proper 
authorities may soon be induced to secure additional land. 

The planting of the trees may very properly be supplemented by literary exercises, out of doors when 
weather permits, and in the school-houses where out-door exercises are not advisable. These exercises 



342 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



may include the singing of appropriate songs, the reading or recital of prose or poetical selections relating 
to this subject, a short address by some suitable person, essays, letters, etc., etc. 

In cities it may be necessary to omit tree planting. In such cases it is recommended that principals of 
schools provide exercises of the character above outlined. 

It will be seen that the observance of the law is not compulsory. There is no penalty for non-compli- 
ance. But it is hoped that the first Arbor Day in the Empire State may be observed in some degree in 
every school district of the State. The exercises may be as simple or extended as the opportunities or ad- 
vantages may provide. If a tree cannot be planted, let it be a vine or shrub, or an ivy. Let some growing 
thing testify to the observance of the day and the interest of the school children in it. 

Arbor Day is now observed in nearly every State in the Union. Let New York, her people and her 
children, identify themselves with a movement which will erect living monuments of use and beauty, to 
the intelligence of the present generation, and which will add pleasure and comfort to the generations yet 
to come. 

Programs will be issued in sufficient quantities to School Commissioners and City Superintendents to 
supply each school with from three to five copies. 

The following suggestions by a correspondent deeply interested in the subject are presented as worthy of 
consideration. 

That three brief poetical compositions be set to appropriate music, and that they be committed to memory 
and sung by the school children, on that day, throughout the State. One of these compositions might be a 
hymn in praise of the natural world, as exemplified in forest, plant and flower, and of thankfulness to God 
for their creation and for our power to appreciate them. 

Another, a song of dedication and aspiration, to be sung about a tree when planted on this day; and a 
third, embodying thoughts which might be suitably expressed in a march of the children through the 
locality which they desire to improve by the planting of trees, etc. The material to be gathered by a 
thoughtful perusal of the subject might surely be expected to inspire our most gifted poets. 

I would suggest that a call be made through the press for such compositions, and then that a similar call 
be made upon our musical composers to set them to music. 

Acting upon the suggestions above outlined, I invite brief poetical compositions of the character indicated. 
As the time for preparation is short, these contributions should be furnished not later than April 5. They 
may be addressed to the State Superintendent of Public Instruction at Albany, and selections will be made 
for use on A rbor Day, proper credit being given for authorship in all cases where the work is used. 

A. S. DRAPER, State Superintendent. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



543 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 



CIRCULAR OF SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC 
INSTRUCTION. 

ARBOR DAY, MAY 3, 1889. 

STATE OF NEW YORK, 

Department of Public Instruction, i 

Superintendent's Office, Albany, April 15, 1SC9. ) 

Acting under the law of 1888, the Superintendent of Public Instruction submits herewith some sugges- 
tions which it is hoped may be of service to the schools in observing the first Arbor Day in this State, which 
will occur May 3 next, accompanying the same with original songs and poems which have been contributed 
for this use, together with appropriate selections from various authors who have written on subjects in 
harmony with the spirit of the day. 

The primary purpose of the Legislature in establishing " Arbor Day," was to develop and stimulate in 
the children of the Commonwealth a love and reverence for Nature as revealed in trees and shrubs and 
flowers. In the language of the statute "to encourage the planting, protection and preservation of trees 
and shrubs" was believed to be the most effectual way in which to lead our children to love Nature and 
reverence Nature's God, and to see the uses to which these natural objects may be put in making our 
school- grounds more healthful and attractive. 

The object sought may well command the most thoughtful consideration and the painstaking efforts of 
school officers, teachers and pupils in every school district, and in every educational institution, and of all 
others who are interested in beautifying the schools and the homes of the State. 

It will be well not only to plant trees and shrubs and vines and flowers where they may contribute to 
pleasure and comfort, but also to provide for their perpetual care, and to supplement such work by exer- 
cises which will lead all to a contemplation of the subject in its varied relations and resultant influences 
It is fitting that trees should be dedicated to eminent scholars, educators, statesmen, soldiers, historians or 
poets, or to favorite teachers or pupils in the different localities. On this occasion, however, it would be 
especially appropriate to dedicate one tree in each district to Washington. 

The opportunity should not be lost, which is afforded by the occasion, for illustrating and enforcing the 
thought that the universe, its creation, its arrangement, and all of its developing processes, are not due to 
human planning or oversight, but to the infinite wisdom and power of God. 

Our school exercises, and particularly those of an unusual character, should be interspersed with selections, 
songs and acts which will inspire patriotism. Upon the same week in which Arbor Day first occurs, the 
Nation will celebrate the Inauguration of Washington, the completion of " the more perfect Union" and 
the full organization of the National Government. It will be a great and magnificent outburst of praise 
and song and exultation, appropriate to the successful rounding out of the first hundred years of the 
Nation's life. Let this fact have some place and exert some influence in our Arbor Day exercises. 

It is hoped that the following pages contain information and suggestions, which will aid teachers in pre- 
paring profitable and interesting exercises for the appropriate observance of the day. Wherever possible, 
it is advisable to take actual steps toward the planting and care of trees and shrubs. In circumstances 
where this is not practicable, hold appropriate literary exercises. So far as it can be done, combine the 
two. Do whatever will arouse an interest in the subject. Particular attention is called to the suggestion 
concerning the selection, by vote of the children and others participating in the exercises, of a tree which 
shall be the choice as the State Tree. Take the vote, report the result to the superintendent in your 
city, or the commissioner in your district, and the entire vote will be collated and announced from the 
Department. 

It is not possible to do more than make general suggestions from this Department. Each teacher must 
take these hints and any others which may present themselves, and utilize them according to local circum- 
stances and environments. 

The Superintendent desires to express his thanks to all who have aided him in this matter, and particu- 
larly to the press of the State for the promptness and prominence with which the subject has been treated. 

A. S. DRAPER, State Superintendent. 



3 44 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, \\ 



PROGRAM. 

Caution : Do not make the program too long. 

iThis program is intended to be merely suggestive, and may be varied as tastes, circumstances and op- 
portunities may permit. The ingenuity of teachers is relied upon to make such changes as may be neces- 
sary to interest in some way all grades of pupils, care being taken to make the exercises as full of life as 
possible.) 

SUGGESTIONS : The order of recitations noted below may be greatly varied. Different scholars 
may recite one verse each of a stated poem, all reciting the last verse in concert. " The Planting of the 
Apple Tree" may appropriately be used in this connection, to be followed by singing in concert, "Swing- 
ing 'neath the Old Apple Tree." 

A very appropriate exercise for younger children may be made under the head " Breezes from the For- 
est," or " Voices of the Trees," in which many children may take part, each pupil reciting a verse especially 
prepared. The first may begin : " I am the sugar maple," etc., other pupils speaking as other trees. The 
following is given as an illustration of this plan, adopted at Port Henry, N. Y., in 1888 : 

" I am the sugar maple, and a favorite ornamental tree. People love me because I am possessed of 
sweetness. I claim to have made more boys and girls happy than any other tree. I have many changes of 
dress — wearing in spring the softest shade of every color, in the summer the purest emerald, and in the 
autumn the most brilliant yellow. My wood is used for furniture, floors, and for furnishing the interior of 
houses, and after the houses are finished, few can warm them better than I." 

The expression in the opening sentence may be varied, as " I am known as" — " They call me," etc. 

Older pupils might interest themselves in organizing as a " Convention 0/ Trees" each pupil represent- 
ing a tree familiar in the locality, and to be called by its name. Officers to be chosen by name of trees, and 
remarks and discussions participated in by members of the Convention, to be recognized by names of trees. 

Compositions may be prepared by older students upon various subjects connected with trees; as, for ex- 
ample, their uses for shade, for ornament, for producing fuel, lumber, etc. ; their influence in increasing the 
rainfall, retaining moisture, modifying the temperature, etc.; their value in furnishing food, materials for 
clothing, ropes, medicines, oils, homes for the birds, houses, furniture, etc.; their value as defense against 
storms, from avalanches in Switzerland, and in preserving health by counteracting the influences of malaria 
etc. 

Compositions may also be written on the size of trees, trees in history, care of trees, enemies of trees, the 
kinds and habits of native trees, kinds of ornamental trees; also, a description of the tree chosen for plant- 
ing, its characteristics, usefulness, etc.; upon varieties of shrubs that are valuable for landscape gardening, 
their habits of growth, flowering, etc. The same exercises may be extended to include the vines or flower 
seeds or flowering plants that may be selected for cultivation. 

1. DEVOTIONAL EXERCISES: 

a. Reading of Scripture. b. Prayer. c. Song. 

Note. — See Scripture lesson given elsewhere. This may be read by one person, or different scholars 
may each repeat averse or a sentence. Or it may be made a responsive service, the teacher repeating 
one sentence, and scholars the next. 

2. READING OF THE LAW ESTABLISHING ARBOR DAY. 

3. READING OF DEPARTMENT CIRCULAR, AND OF LETTERS IN REFERENCE TO 

ARBOR DAY. 
Note. — Many teachers and others in charge of exercises may choose to invite letters appropriate to the 
occasion, from prominent persons in the different localities who are unable to be present. 

4. SONG. 

5. RECITATIONS.— By different pupils. 

First Pupil : 

" The groves were God's first temples, 

Ere man learned 

To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave 

And spread the roof above them — ere he framed 

The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 

The round of anthems, in the darkling wood, 

Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down 

And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 

And supplications." Bryant. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 345 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



Second Pupil: 
" I shall speak of trees, as we see them, love them, adore them in the fields where they are alive, holding 
their green sunshades over our heads, talking to us with their hundred thousand whispering tongues, look- 
ing down on us with that sweet meekness which belongs to huge but limited organisms — which one sees 
most in the patient posture, the outstretched arms, and the heavy drooping robes of these vast beings, en- 
dowed with life, but not with soul — which outgrow us and outlive us, but stand helpless, poor things — while 
nature dresses and undresses them." Holmes. 

Third Pupil: 
" Give fools their gold and knaves their power; For he who blesses most is blest; 

Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; And God and man shall own his worth, 

Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Who toils to leave as his bequest 

Or plants a tree, is more than all. An added beauty to the earth." Whittier. 

Fourth Pupil : 
" There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of forest trees. It argues, I think, 
a sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship 
for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought connected with this part of 
rural economy. * * * He who plants an oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for posterity. 
Nothing can be less selfish than this." Irving. 

Fifth Pupil: 
" What conqueror in any part of l Life's broad field of battle ' could desire a more beautiful, a more 
noble, or a more patriotic monument than a tree planted by the hands of pure and joyous children, as a 
memorial of his achievements." Lossing. 

Sixth Pupil : 

Oh ! Rosalind, these trees shall be my books. 
And in their barks my thoughts I'll character, 
That every eye which in this forest looks, 

Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere. Shakespeare. 

Seventh Pupil : 
" There is something unspeakably cheerful in a spot of ground which is covered with trees, that smiles 
amidst all the rigors of winter, and gives us a view of the most gay season in the midst of that which is the 
most dead and melancholy." Addison. 

Eighth Pupil: 
"As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air, and to breathe forth a purer 
atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from us all sordid and angry passions, and breathed forth 
peace and philanthropy." Irving. 

Ninth Pupil : 

" I care not how men trace their ancestry, 
To ape or Adam; let them please their whim; 
But I in June am midway to believe 
A tree among my far progenitors, 
Such sympathy is mine with all the race, 
Such mutual recognition vaguely sweet 

There is between us." Lowell. 

Tenth Pupil: 
" Trees have about them something beautiful and attractive even to the fancy. Since they cannot change 
their plan, are witnesses of all the changes that take place around them; and as some reach a great age, 
they become, as it were, historical monuments, and, like ourselves, they have a life growing and passing 
away, not being inanimate and unvarying like the fields and rivers. One sees them passing through vari- 
ous stages , and at last, step by step, approaching death, which makes them look still more like ourselves." 
Eleventh Pupil: Humboldt. 

" Summer or winter, day or night, 
The woods are an ever new delight; 
They give us peace, and they make us strong, 
Such wonderful balms to them belong; 
So, living or dying, I'll take my ease 
Under the trees, under the trees." Stoddard. 



346 



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NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 



6. READING OR DECLAMATION. 

7. SONG. 

8. ADDRESS. — " Our School-houses and our Homes, How to beautify them." 
Note. — Any other appropriate subject may be selected. 

9. SONG. 

10. BRIEF ESSAYS.— By different scholars. 
First scholar may choose for subject, " My Favorite Tree is the Oak," and give reasons. Other scholars 
may follow, taking for subjects the Elm, Maple, Beech, Birch, Ash, etc. These essays should be very short, 
n. SONG. 

12. VOTING ON THE QUESTION.— " What is the Favorite State Tree." 

13. READING OR RECITATION. 

14. SONG. 

15. ORGANIZATION OF LOCAL " Shade-Tree Planting Association." (See Suggestions under 

this head elsewhere.) 
Note.— The scholars should at least appoint a committee to serve for a year to see that trees planted are 
properly cared for. 
l5. SONG.— America. 

PROGRAM— AT THE TREE. 

Suggestions : Arriving at the place designated for the planting of a tree, every thing should be found 
in readiness by previous preparation, in order that there may be no delay. By arrangement, the tree 
should be dedicated to some particular person as may have been decided. It would be well to have printed 
or painted on tin or wood, and attached to the tree, the name of the person to whom it is dedicated. 

After a marching song has been sung on the way to the tree, the following order of exercises is suggested : 

1. PLACE THE TREE CAREFULLY IN POSITION. (See 5, below.) 
Note.— When advisable, the tree may be placed in position in advance of the exercises. 

2. SONG. 

3. A brief statement by the teacher or another concerning the person to whom the tree is 

dedicated. 

4. When practicable — recital of quotations from the writings of the person thus honored. 

5. Let each pupil in the class, or such as may be designated, deposit a spadeful of earth. 

6. SONG. 

Note.— Where impracticable to plant trees,— shrubs, vines or flowers may be substituted. A flower bed 
may be laid out, and vines set in or seeds planted. 

SCRIPTURE SELECTIONS. 

And God said let the earth bring forth the fruit tree yielding fruit after its kind; and the earth brought 
forth the tree yielding fruit; and God saw that it was good. And out of the ground made the Lord God to 
grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. 

And Abraham said to the three angels : " Rest yourselves under the tree; " and he stood by them under 
the tree, and they did eat. 

The tree of the field is man's life. Then shall the trees of the wood sing out at the presence of the Lord; 
then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord. The trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars 
of Lebanon which He hath planted; where the birds make their nests; as for the stork, the fir trees are her 
house. 

Blessed is the man whose delight is in the law of the Lord ; he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of 
water that bringeth forth its fruit in due season; his leaf shall not wither ; and whatsoever he doeth shall 
prosper. 

Of Wisdom, the wise man saith : She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy is every 
one that retaineth her. And again, the fruit of the righteous is a tree of life ; while Hope deferred maketh 
the heart sick, when the desire cometh it is a tree of life; and a wholesome tongue is a tree of life. 

And the angel carried me away in the spirit, and showed me that great city, the New Jerusalem ; in the 
midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river was there the tree of life which bear twelve manner 
of fruits, and yielded its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. 
And he said: To him that overcometh, I will give to eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the Para- 
dise of God. 



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NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



SHADE-TREE PLANTING ASSOCIATION. 

SUGGESTIONS BY J. L. BAGG, SYRACUSE, N. Y. 

As an excellent means of securing the planting of shade trees, it is suggested that a " Shade-Tree Planting 
Association " be organized in each school district in the county for the purpose of securing the planting of 
trees along all the vacant'roadsides in the district. Unless the grown-up people of the district shall promptly 
move in this matter, let the association be formed by the school children of the district, both girls and boys. 
They, of course, will commence the work by planting trees around their own school-house. They might 
not, themselves, be able to pull up the trees in the forest, but they could readily get their big broth- 
ers and kind fathers to do this for them. All the boys, both great and small, could take part in digging the 
holes and planting the trees, and the girls could direct the trimming of them, and so all, even the smallest 
pupil, will have done something toward this beautiful work. When this shall have been done, the associa- 
tion might have a celebration, to which any person residing in the district shall be made welcome. 

Next it will be in order, if there be a church or public square in the district, whose grounds arc barren of 
trees (as such are apt to be) for the association to get up another " bee" for their adornment. And when 
the school-grounds and the church-yard have been thus beautified, and the boys and girls shall have had 
the good time consequent thereto, then the association might send its committees canvassing from house to 
house through the district, until each land-owner shall have given a positive promise, that at the next tree- 
planting season his farm fronts shall be supplied with the requisite shade-trees. 

THE BEST TREES AND VINES. 

I think the trees best adapted for successful culture in our region are the elm, maple, linden, ash, birch, 
beech, dogwood, pines, spruces, some of the willows, some of the poplars, a tulip tree, horse chestnut, ca- 
talpa, laburnum and oak. The shrubs which seem best adapted to our State, so far as I know, are the 
deutzia, hydrangea, spiraea, wiegela, privet, arbor vitae, flowering cherry, flowering plum and hawthorn. 
Among our best and hardiest vines are the clematis, the bitter sweet, wistaria, trumpet vine, honeysuckle, 
morning glory, Virginia creeper and ampelopsis veitchii. The best plants for bedding purposes seem to be 
pansies, verbenas, geraniums, coleuses, centaurea and hybrid roses. Beautiful beds may be formed by 
planting seeds of the portulacca, pansies, verbenas, zinias, asters, dahlias, petunias, chrysanthemums, nas- 
turtiums, balsams, phlox, sweet William, and seeds of other wejl-known plants. — Dr W. J. Milne, Gene- 
seo Normal School. 

CAUTION. 

Trees should not be planted so near houses that the roots will interfere with the foundations or that their 
shade will make the house damp. 

Trees should not be planted so closely along road-ways as to hinder the prompt drying of the road after 
a rain. 

Ornamental trees should not have the effect of a forest. 



ARBOR DAY POEMS. 

(Original.) 

ARBOR DAY TRIBUTE. 

With lavish hand our God hath spread The perfumed breeze of smiling May, 
Beauty and fragrance o'er the land; The dancing stream on mountain side, 

His smile revives the seeming dead ; The wild bird's trill of joyous lay, 

Nature awakes at His command. Proclaim Thy goodness far and wide. 

He breathes upon the leafless tree, Attune our hearts to sing Thy praise, 
He whispers to the tiny flower, Expand our souls to comprehend 

His touch awakes the slumb'nng bee, Thy attributes and all Thy ways, 

And each obeys th' Almighty Power. And ever be our Guide and Friend. 

We plant to-day within the mould, 

The stock that needs thy tender care; 
Send deep its roots, its buds unfold, 

In answer to our faith and prayer. 

Jared Barhite, Irvington-on-the-Hudson, N. Y. 



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NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, il 



(Original.) 

CHILDREN'S ARBOR DAY MARCH. 



We are marching for the arbor, 

And our hearts are free from care; 

All our thoughts in tune to nature, 
"With the music of the air. 

Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily, 

And our hearts are free from care; 
Buds are springing, birds are singing. 
There is music ev'rywhere. 

Thinking of the happy faces 
In the happy bye and bye, 

Who will come to take our places 

When our school days have gone by. 

Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily, 

And our hearts are free from care ; 
Bells are ringing, joys are springing, 
There is gladness ev'rywhere. 



Flowers are smiling, bees are humming 
O'er the land we're passing through ; 

Robin shyly greets our coming, — 
Every thing to nature true. 

Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily, 

And our hearts are free from care; 
Colors blending, tints unending, — 
There is beauty ev'rywhere. 

We will bless the mighty Power 

Who for us the feast hath spread, 

For all life, for tree and flower, 
And His heavens overhead. 

Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily. 

And our hearts are free from care ; 
In each beauty, learning duty, 
For His love is ev'rywhere. 

E. A. Holbrook, Watertown, N. Y. 



(Original.) 

SONG OF DEDICATION. 



[Air- 

The tree we are planting this May day 

Is chosen with tenderest care ; 
May beauty adorn it, hereafter. 

And clothe it with usefulness rare. 
May green leaves appearing each spring time 

Be leaves of a fair book of Fame, 
And spread to the breezes the story 

Extolling the new-given name. 



" Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean."] 

The tree is an emblem of greatness, 

As, springing from one tiny seed, 
It mounts ever upward and onward 

An emblem of greatness, indeed ! 
The birds sing Us praises to others, 

The winds carry swiftly the tale, 
The tree is the monarch of forest, 

Of hill, valiey, greenwood and dale. 
Ellen Beauchamp, Baldwinsville, N. Y„ 



(Original.) 

ARBOR DAY INVOCATION. 



Like the glad birds of springtime, 

Our praises we sing, 
To God the great giver 

Of every good thing ; 
Till earth, with glad voices, 

Shall echo again, 
From woodland and meadow, 

From mountain and plain. 



The ever glad chorus, 

The springtime is here ; 
With bird songs, with flowers: 

And all her giad cheer ; 
While over the land that 

We treasure so dear, 
We scatter God's blessings 

Afar and a-near. 



Gqd bless us, we pray Thee, 

A young student band ; 
Ever help us in truth 

And uprightness to stand ; 
And bless Thou the labor 

Our hands do to-day, 
Mid the bird songs and flowers 

Of beautiful May. 



Emma S. Thomas, Schoharie, N. Y. 



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349 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 



We, children of the free, 
Come here to plant this tree, 

With prayer and song; 
A living sign to stand. 
Of love to Fatherland, 

While years prolong. 



(Original.) 

INVOCATION. 



[Air — " America."] 



In every flower and tree, 
God's forming hand we see, 

And His great love, 
And every bud and leaf 
Increases our belief 

In heaven above. 



'Tis meet a leafy shade 
Should shelter boy or maid, 

Who hither hies, 
To spend in studious hours, 
Fair childhood's growing powers, 

And seek truth's prize. 



Dear God of Nature, grant 
This tree which now we plant 

May live and grow, 
To bless with grace and shade, 
This loved and cherished glade, 
Our love to show. 
P. Harlow, City Editor "Leader" Kingston, N. Y. 



(Original.) 

SONG FOR TREE-PLANTING. 



[Air — " Dearest May."] 



In soil the dearest and the best, 

On which the sun can shine, 
We plant thee, tree, in hope, to-day, 

O, let our cause be thine ! 
Strike deep thy roots, wax wide and tall, 

That all this truth may know, 
Thou art our type of future power, 

Like thee, we, too, shall grow. 



In coming years, thy kindly shade 

The sons of toil shall bless; 
Thy beauty and thy grace shall all 

With grateful voice confess ; 
And so our youth in wisdom trained 

Shall render service great, 
Our schools send sons and daughters forth, 

The glory of the State. 



Refrain — Like thee, we, too, shall grow, 

Like thee, we, too, shall grow, 

Thou art our type of future power, 

Like thee, we, too, shall grow. 



Refrain — The glory of the State, 

The glory of the State, 
Our schools send sons and daughters forth, 
The glory of the State. 



Strike deep thy roots, wax wide and tall, 

Since thou our pledge shall be, 
Of all the good we vow to bring 

Our country grand and free. 
In place of one by ax or age 

Cut off, long mayst thou stand 
We march to take our fathers' room, 

And do the work they planned. 



Refrain — And do the work they planned, 

And do the work they planned, 
We march to take our fathers' room, 
And do the work they planned. 

Sara J. Undkrwooo, Chester, N. V 



35o 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 



(Original.) 
A HYMN IN PRAISE OF THE NATURAL WORLD. 

[Air — " Auld Lang Syne."] 



The winter storms have passed away, 

And spring-time now is here 
With sunshine smiling all around, 

And heavens blue and clear. 
The gifts of Nature brighten earth, 

And make her garden gay ; 
They give a cheery greeting bright 

On this, the Arbor Day. 



The flowers have risen from their sleep. 

And, decked in garments gay, 
They lift their smiling faces bright 

On this, the Arbor Day. 
They shed forth all their fragrance rare. 

And loving tribute pay, 
And give of all their little wealth 

On this, the Arbor Day. 



The birds with gladsome voices sing, 

Each its melodious lay, 
And music swells each little throat 

On this, the Arbor Day. 
The trees put forth their greenest leaves 

On this, the Arbor Day, 
And welcome now the chosen tree 

Which we shall plant to-day. 

Ellen Beauchamp, Baldwinsville, N. Y. 






(Original.). 

THE OLD WOOD. 



To me, no dull insensate growth 
Those heirs of Time appear; 

But life, with thought and feeling both 
My fancy findeth here. 

A purpose held, an upward aim, 
Those sylvan monarchs teach ; 

The finer traits that man may claim, 
Seem attributes of each. 

How deep the strong Oaks grasp the soil, 

At danger, loud they scoff. 
The tempest in its strength they foil, 

And hurl its dark clouds off. 

Theirs is the nature that achieves. 

No yielding there is found; 
The very rustle of their leaves 

Assumes a martial sound. 

Of gentler mould, of softer mood, 
One prone to pause or dream; 

A stately poet of the wood, 
The lofty Pine doth seem. 

And softly through its slender leaves. 

The wind is mourning on, 
As when some noble spirit grieves 

For some great hope now gone. 



Scarce matched in beauty of them all 

On high the Elms extend; 
Graceful as fountain in its fall, 

Their long lithe branches bend. 

When Autumm's touch of beauty brings 

New charms upon the trees; 
The glory of a thousand kings 

May not compare with these. 

The Maple, d) T ed in sunset hues, 

Would dim the Hebrew's throne, 

And Sheba's Oueen would scarce refuse 
To say she was outshone. 

A saffron tint the Beech receives, 

The Birch's boughs turn pale; 
O'er ledge and crag the Berry leaves 

In dark red streamers trail. 

In russet robes the Ivy lies 

Upon its mound of stone ; 
A scarlet sash the Woodbine ties 

Around the Cedar's cone. 

And over all the Autumn air 

Lies like a golden flood ; 
The works of God seem perfect there, 

Within the grand old wood. 

Hugh Kelso, Kinderhook, N. Y. 






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351 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 



(Original.) 

TRIBUTE TO NATURE. 



Of nature broad and free. 
Of grass and flower and tree, 

Sing we to-day. 
God hath pronounced it good, 
So we, His creatures would 
Offer to field and wood, 

Our heartfelt lay. 

To all that meets the eye, 
In earth, or air, or sky, 

Tribute we bring. 
Barren this world would be, 
Bereft of shrub and tree ; 
Now gracious Lord to Thee, 

Praises we sing. 



[Tune — " America."] 

May we Thy hand behold, 
As bud and leaf unfold, 

See but Thy thought ; 
Nor heedlessly destroy, 
Nor pass unnoticed by ; 
But be our constant joy. 

All Thou hast wrought. 

As each small bud and flower 
Speaks of the Maker's power, 

Tells of His love ; 
So we, Thy children dear, 
Would live from year to year, 
Show forth Thy goodness here. 

And then above. 
Mary A. Heekmans, Elmira, N. Y. 



(Original.) 

THE CLASS TREE. 



Deep in the earth to-day, 
Safely thy roots we lay, 

Tree of our love ; 
Grow thou, and flourish long 
Ever our grateful song 
Shall its glad notes prolong 
To God above. 



[Tune — " America."] 

Grow thou and flourish well 
Ever the story tell, 

Of this glad day ; 
Long may thy branches raise 
To heaven our grateful praise • 
Waft them, on sunlight rays 

To God away. 

" Let music swell the breeze. 
And ring from all the trees," 

On this glad day ; 
Bless Thou each student band 
O'er all our happy land ; 
Teach them Thy love's command 
Great God, we pray. 

Emma S. Thomas, Schoharie, N. Y. 
(Original.) 

ARBOR DAY. 



Plant in the springtime the beautiful trees, 
So that in future each soft summer breeze, 
Whispering through tree-tops may call to our mind, 
Days of our childhood then left far behind. 

Days when we learned to be faithful and true ; 
Days when we yearned our life's future to view; 
Days when the good seemed so easy to do; 
Days when life's cares were so light and so few. 

Oft in the present are we made to know 
What was done for us in years long ago, 
How others sowed in the vast fields of thought, 
And, to us, harvests from their work is brought. 



And, as we read, in some tree's welcome shade, 
Of the works of earth's wise men, which never can 

fade, 
Thanks would we waft on the soft summer breeze, 
Both to planters of thought and to planters of trees. 

Then should we think, in our heritage grand, 
We, too, belong to that glorious band, 
Who in word or in thought, or in deed something do 
To advance this old world somewhat on to the new. 

As in the past men did plant for to-day, 
So will we plant in this beautiful May, 
Trees that in future shall others shade cool, 
Thoughts that shall ripen for earth's future school. 

Anonymous. 



352 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 



(Original.) 

ARBOR DAY MARCH. 

Note.— Children singing this selection could be provided with small flags to be waved during the singin; 

of the words " Hurrah." 

[Air — "Marching Through Georgia.' 1 ] 

Celebrate the Arbor Day Flow'rs are blooming all around — 

. With march and song and cheer, Are blooming on this day, 

For the season comes to us And the trees with verdure clad, 

Rut once in ev'ry year ; Welcome the month of May, 

Should we not remember it Making earth a garden fair 

And make the mem'ry dear — To hail the Arbor Day. 

Memories sweet for this May day ? Clothing all Nature with gladness. 

Chorus — Hurrah ! hurrah ! the Arbor Day is here , 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! it gladdens ev'ry year ; 
So we plant a young tree on this blithesome Arbor Day 
While we are singing for gladness. 

Ellen Beauchamp, Baldwinsville, N. Y. 

(Original 

CHILDREN'S PRAISE SONG. 

[Air — Webb. — "The Morning Light is Breaking," etc.] 

Thus came the welcome favor, In grateful imitation, 

From the Creator's hand, Of the Creator's hand, 

Dispensing life and beauty, Let us extend the ble6sing 

With joy to every land; In this, our favored land; 

The earth received the blessing, On Arbor Day be willing 

And, grateful to her King, To multiply the gift, 

Doth, each recurring season, While gentle rains distilling, 

Rich tribute to Him bring. Shall cause abundant thrift. 






Then, let us now, most grateful, 

To the Creator raise 
Our hearts in adoration, 

In joyful words of praise; 
For thus, may all creation, 

In worship so divine, 
Unite in pure devotion, 

At Nature's holy shrine. 



Thus, through the lapse of ages, 

The blessing shall extend, 
And earth's most beauteous pages 

Grow brighter to the end; 
While we with songs of gladness. 

Shall ever grateful raise, 
To the all-wise Creator, 

Our heartfelt words of praise. 

W. B. Downer, Cazenovia, N. V. 



(Original.) 

PLANTING THE TREE. 



[Music — "Flag of the Free,' 

Gather we here to plant the fair tree ; 

Gladsome the hour, joyous and free, 

Greeting to thee, fairest of May ! 

Breathe sweet the buds on our loved Arbor Day, 

Gather we now, the sapling around, 

Singing our song— let it resound : 

Happy the day ! Happy the hour ! 
Joyous we, all of us, feel their glad power. 

Shovel and spade, trowel and hoe, 

Carefully dig up the quick yielding ground ; 
Make we a bed, softly lay low 



' No. i, Franklin Square Collection.] 

Each little root with the earth spread around; 
Snug as a nest, the soil round them pressed, 
This is the home that the rootlings love best. 
Refrain. 

Moisten and soften the ground, ye Spring Rains ; 

Swell ye the buds, and fill ye the veins, 

Bless the dear tree, bountiful Sun ; 

Warm thou the blood in the stem till it run ; 

Hasten the growth, let leaves have birth, 

Make it most beautiful thing of the earth. 

Refrain. 

Dr. E. P. Waterbury, Albany Normal School. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



35. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, li 



HOW TO PLANT TREES — WHAT TO PLANT. 

U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE, 

FORESTRY DIVISION. 

Circular No. 5, 1889. 

ARBOR DAY PLANTING IN EASTERN STATES. 



The following circular has been prepared to answer inquiries from school 
superintendents and other officials as well as private individuals who are inter- 
ested in tree planting on Arbor Day. J. M. RUSK, 

Secretary. 

Sir: I have the honor to submit herewith a circular giving brief instructions 
on selection of trees and manner of planting for Arbor Day purposes, to answer 
inquiries from school superintendents and others interested in Arbor Day. 

Respectfully, 
Hon. J. M. Rusk, B. E. FERNOW, 

Secretary. . Chief of Forestry Division. 

Introductory. — Arbor Days in the Eastern States as a rule contemplate the 
planting of shade and ornamental trees mainly for the sake of creating a senti- 
ment and interest in tree planting and eventually in forest culture. 

The following suggestions do not refer to the educational features of Arbor 
Dav, but are meant to give in the briefest manner such general advice in regard 
to the selection of trees for the occasion and to the manipulation of planting, 
as may aid teachers, pupils and others to perform the practical work of Arbor 
Day with reasonable hope of success. 

Time of Planting'. — The day set for Arbor Day and the weather on that day 
may not always be the best for planting. Its fitness for an out-door celebration 
should govern the choice, while the planting may be done at a more suitable 
season. Spring, before the buds open (February to May) is as a rule the best 
time for transplanting — although with care it can be done all the year round — 
and a murky or cloudy day is preferable to a sunny one for that operation. 

Choice of Trees :— 

1. General Considerations. — Trees for school grounds and yards, along road- 
sides and streets, must be such as are least liable to suffer from injuries ; they 
should be compact and symmetrical in shape, free from objectionable habits, 
such as bad odors, root-sprouting, frequent dropping of parts, etc., and from 
insect pests, and if planted for shade, should have a broad crown and a dense 
foliage, budding early in spring and retaining leaves long into the fall. Absence 
of skillful hands at tree planting on Arbor Days would also limit the selection 
to those which are transplanted easily and require the least care. 

Trees native 'to the region in which the planting is dene usually have more 
promise of success and are generally less costly than exotics. Trees from well- 
managed nurseries are preferable to those grown in the forest, because their 
root-system is better prepared for transplanting. Rapidly-growing trees, al- 
though giving shade soonest, are mostly short lived and become soonest un- 
sightly. 

2. Size. — Although as a rule small plants have a better promise of success, 
other considerations recommend the choice of larger sizes for roadside and 

23 



354 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



ornamental planting. Trees of any size can be successfully transplanted, but 
in proportion to the size grows the difficulty, the amount of work and the care 
necessary. As a rule the largest size should not exceed two to three inches in 
diameter at the base and ten to fifteen feet in height. Those one-half that size 
will probably make better growth, because less of their root-system will be 
curtailed in taking them up for transplanting. 

3. Diagnosis of a tree suitable for transplanting. — a. An abundance of fibrous 
roots. Not the turnip-like main or tap-root but the little fibers sustain the life 
of a tree. See that there are plenty of them, compactly grown within a small 
compass, and that they are not stripped of their bark or torn at their ends or 
dried up. 

b. A normal form and well-proportioned development of shaft and crown. 
The shaft should be clean and straight, neither thick set and short, nor thread- 
like and over elongated, but gradually tapering and strong enough to hold up 
its head without support. The normal crown is characterized by vigorous full- 
sized leaves, or else by a large number of thick and full buds ; it covers the main 
stem one-third to one-half its length, with a symmetric spread evenly branched, 
and has only one leader, of moderate length. 

The length and vigor of the last year's shoots, number and thickness of buds, 
and appearance of the bark afford means of judging the healthy constitution 
of the tree. 

c. The position from which the tree came has some influence on its further 
development. Trees from the forest have generally a wide-spreading root- 
system, which is difficult to take up and transplant. Those which have grown 
in the shade of the forest as a rule do not start easily in the open sunlight; 
those from cool north sides are apt to sicken when placed on hot exposures 
and vice versa. A healthy tree from poor soil transferred into better conditions 
will show itself grateful by vigorous development. 

Treatment before transplanting. — Transplanting is at best a forcible oper- 
ation, and injury to the roots, although it may be small, is almost unavoidable. 
The roots are the life of the tree, and need, therefore, the most attention. In 
taking up a tree for transplanting the greatest care must be exercised to secure 
as much of the root-system intact as possible, especially of the small fibrous 
roots. 

a. Never allow roots to become dry, from the time of taking up the tree until it is 
transplanted. A healthy-looking tree may have the certainty of death in it if 
the root fibrils are dried out. To prevent drying during transportation, cover 
the roots with moist straw or moss or bags, or leave on them as much soil of 
the original bed as possible. At the place where the tree is to be planted, if 
the planting cannot be done at once, ''heel in " the roots, i. e., cover them and 
part of the lower stem with fresh earth, or place the tree in the plant hole, 
throwing several spadefuls of earth on the roots. 

b. Pruning roots and branches is almost always necessary, but must be done 
with great care, especially as to root pruning. The cutting at the roots should 
be as little as possible, only removing with a clean sharp cut the bruised and 
broken parts. Extra long tap-roots may be cut away, but all the small fibers 
should be preserved. The cutting at the top is done to bring crown and root 
into proportion ; the more loss at the root-system has been experienced the 
more need of reducing the crown system. Larger trees, therefore, require 
mostly severer pruning, especially on poor soils; yet if there be fibrous roots 
enough to sustain great evaporation from the crown, the less cut the better. 
With large trees severe pruning is less dangerous than too little. A clean cut 
as close as possible to the stem or remaining branch will facilitate the healing 
of the wound. No stumps should be left (except with conifers, which suffer but 
little pruning).. Shortening of the end shoots to one-half or two-thirds of their 
length may be done a little above a bud which is to take the lead. As a rule, 
the pruning for symmetry should have been done a year or so before trans- 
planting, but may be done a year after. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



355 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



Method in planting a tree.— 1. Holes are best made before the trees are 
brought to the ground. They should be a little deeper than the depth of the 
root-system, but twice as large around as seems necessary, to facilitate pene- 
tration of rains and development of rootlets through the loosened soil. Place 
the top soil, which is better (being richer in easily assimilated plant food) to 
one side, the raw soil from the bottom to the other side; in filling back bring 
the richer soil to the bottom. If it be practicable, improve a heavy loamy soil 
by adding to and mixing with it looser sandy soil, or a loose poor soil by en- 
riching it with loam or compost. Keep all stones out of the bottom ; they 
may be used above the roots, or better on the surface. Providing proper 
drainage is the best means of improving ground for tree planting. Use no 
manure except as a top dressing. 

2. Planting is best done by two or three persons. A, who manipulates the tree, is 
the planter and responsible for the result ; B and C do the spading under his 
direction. A places the tree in the hole, to ascertain whether this is of proper 
size ; a board or stick laid across the hole aids in judging the depth. Trees 
should not be set deeper than they stood before, except in loose, poor soil. 
More trees are killed by too deep planting than the reverse. If the root-sys- 
tem is developed sideways but not centrally, as is often the case, a hill is raised 
in the hole to fill out the hollow space in the root-system, and the earth of the 
hill is patted down with the spade. When the hole is in proper order, A holds 
the tree perpendicularly in the middle of the hole, with the side bearing the 
fullest branches toward the south or south-west, for better protection of the 
shaft against the sun. B and C spread the roots into a natural position, then 
fill in the soil, using the good soil first — small spadefuls deliberately thrown 
over the roots in all directions — while A, by a slight shaking and pumping up 
and down of the stem, aids the earth in settling around the rootlets. A close 
contact of the soil with the rootlets is the secret of success in planting. Only 
fine mellow soil, not too moist, and free from stones, will permit such close ad- 
justment to the rootlets, which should also be aider! by hand and fingers filling 
in every crevice. A, while setting the tree, must exercise care to keep it in 
proper position and perpendicular, until the soil is packed so as to keep the 
tree in place ; then B and C rapidly fill the holes, A treading down the soil 
firmly after a sufficient quantity is filled in, finishing off a little above the gen- 
eral level to allow for settling, and finally placing the stones or any mulching 
around the stem. 

Watering 1 . — The practice of using water while planting can hardly be said to 
be a good one, unless the water is very carefully applied with a " rose " after 
the soil is well filled in and packed around the fibrous roots. Especially with 
a soil which has a tendency to clog, there is great danger of an uneven distri- 
bution and settling, with consequent empty spaces between the roots. More 
trees are probably killed by too much water in transplanting than by too little. 
Water after the transplanting (and perhaps before the last shovels of earth are 
filled in) especially if the soil was dry, is useful and should be applied during 
the hot season, choosing the late afternoon or evening for applying it. 

After care. — Any mulch of waste material, hay, straw, or better, wood shav- 
ings or chips, sawdust, or even stones simply placed around the foot of the 
tree, is of excellent service in checking evaporation. 

Keeping the ground free from weeds and grass, and preventing it from bak- 
ing, by occasionally hoeing and raking, is advisable. To prevent the trees from 
being swayed by the wind, if of larger size, they should be staked firmly; a 
loose post is worse than none. The tying should be so done as not to cut or 
injure the tree ; a tree-box insures more safety against accidents. With the 
development of the crown it becomes necessary to trim it, so as to carry the 
top above reach. Trees are not benefited by being used for hitching-posts, or 
climbing poles, or other frolic. 



;56 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 



Summarizing the elements of success in tree planting, they are : 

1. Trees suitable to soil and surrounding conditions ; 

2. A well-developed root-system, kept in living condition; 

3. Wide holes and mellow soil; 

4. Firm packing of soil around the roots. 

Choice of kinds. — Leaving out conifers — which require more careful handling 
and better situations than are as a rule to be had on occasions like that in view 
— there are over one hundred indigenous species to choose from for planting on 
the Atlantic side ; of these thirty to forty might deserve attention for Arbor Day 
tree planting, according to climate^ soil, and situation, or object. It is best to 
limit the choice for this occasion to trees of recognized merit native to your 
locality ; opportunities will vary the choice. It is only possible here to name the 
following selections, which admit of a wide application in the Atlantic States : 

Three trees to be planted where nothing else will grow ; easily 
transplanted, growing rapidly, but shortlived, liable to injuries, root- sprouting,, 
soon scraggy looking unless specially attended : 

Silver Maple. Carolina Poplar. Box Elder. 

(Acer dasycarpum.) (Poplus monlifera). (Negundo aceroides.) 

Four trees, among the best for street and lawn : 
Sugar Maple. Red Maple. . Linden. Elm. 

(Acer saccharinum.) (Acer rubrum.) (Tilia Americana.) (Ulmus Americana.) 

Five trees desirable for lawn and yard : 

Tulip Tree. Red Oak. Willow Oak. 

(Liriodendron tulipifera.) (Quercus rubra.) (Quercus phellos.) 

Black Cherry. Sweet Gum. 

(Prunus serotina.) (Liquidambar styraciflua.) 

Six trees suitable for special positions : 

Sycamore. Black Birch. Ash. 

(Platanus occidentalis.) (Betula lenta.) (Fraxinus Americana.) 

Black Walnut. Chestnut. Beech. 

(Juglans nigra.) (Castanea vesca.) (Fagus ferruginea.) 

Two foreigners of note: 
Horse Chestnut. (Aesculus Hippocastanum) and Paulownia (Paulownia impe- 
rialis.) 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



357 



SPECIMEN PROGRAMS. 

Port Henry, N. Y. 

.Arranged by Professor W. H Benedict, now of the public schools of Elmira, N. V., for Arbor Day, 

May 3, 1889. 

Selections marked thus * are eiven in this volume. 



PROGRAM. 



1. Chorus.—*" Hymn in Praise of the Natural World." High School. 

The singing was accompanied by an organ and two violins. 

2. Reading of letters from distinguished persons, by members of the High School. 

From Hon. J. Sterling Morton, ex-Governor of Nebraska, and the author of Arbor 
Day. 

Arbor Lodge, Nebraska City, Neb., April 20, 1S89. 
Dear Sir — All other anniversaries refer to the past and its dead. Arbor Day alone 
deals with the present and the future. It stretches its sheltering shades over the unborn 
millions of coming generations and in the voices of the leafy woods pronounces benedic- 
tions upon posterity. Faithfully yours, 

J. Sterling Morton. 

From George William Curtis, Yice-Chancellor of the University of the State of New 
York . 

West New Brighton, Staten Island, April 17, 1SS9. 

Dear Sir — I am very glad that you propose fitting observance of Arbor Da)', which I 
think may be easily made one of the most interesting of our holidays. There is proba- 
bly not one of the pupils in your school who has not a fondness for pet animals, for 
horses, dogs, cats, squirrels, rabbits, and the charm lies largely in its life and its depend- 
ence upon its master. Arbor Day will enlarge this friendly relation, so as to include 
trees, and by and by, perhaps, shrubs and flowering plants. They too are living, and for 
their proper growth and development they will depend largely upon the care and intelli- 
gence of the boys and girls who are interested in them. 

This interest will be fostered as in the case of the pet animals by the individual relation 
between the trees and those who plant them. It will be stimulated by the names to be 
given to the trees, and by the desire to honor distinguished men and women by carefully 
tending the trees that bear their names. All this will gradually lead inevitably to special 
knowledge of the structure, character, growth, and uses of trees, to enjoyment of the 
allusions to them in literature, and their association with historical events, like the Char- 
ter Oak in Hartford and Sir Philip Sidney's oak at Penshurst, which was planted at his 
birth and which Ben. Johnson and Edmund Waller commemorated, and the Abbot's oak, 
and William the Conqueror's oak at Windsor Park. 

With this will come a keener interest in the significance of trees and plants in national 
usages, and in popular belief and proverbs, " There's rosemary, that's remembrance." To 
be ciad in mourning was to wear the Willow. Old Fuller, the English worthy, calls the 
willow a sad tree, and the forsaken lover sang " all around my hat I wear a green willow." 
The Jews in captivity hung their harps upon the willows, and to describe a melancholy 
landscape Sir Walter Scott in the Lay of the Last Minstrel sings of " along the wild and 
-willowed shore." It was upon the Beech tree that lovers, long before America was dis- 
covered, carved the names of their sweethearts, and it was upon the tree of which Amiens 
sung that Shakespeare's Orlando hung his verses to Rosalind. It was the trees of Arden- 
nes that waved their leaves over the soldiers marching to Waterloo, "Grieving, if aught 
inanimate e'er grieves over the unreturning brave." Thus in every way trees are inwrought; 
with literature as with art. 

" The groves were God's first temples," and Gothic architecture reproduces the long 
drawn aisles and fretted vault of the pine forest. 

As the student advances into Latin and Greek, he will find trees springing up all around 
him in the form of allusions in the chaplets, wreaths and crowns that were woven from 
their leaves, although they do not appear in the classic poets as figures of beauty in the 



358 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. —Continued. 

landscape. The conscious enjoyment of natural beauty is a modern sentiment, but it is 
from the association of Greek and Roman usage that " bays " and " laurels" derive their 
modern significance. Apollo's tree, the bay, furnished the wreaths for Roman victors, at 
their triumphs. The Greeks crowned with laurel the victors in the Pythian games and 
with a wreath of wild olives the Olympic victors. 

All such facts, familiar to school boys, will acquire a kind of interest which they never 
had before when those boys establish personal relations with trees and shrubs by planting 
them and giving them names. When they watch to see how Bryant and Longfellow are 
growing; whether Abraham Lincoln wants water, or Benjamin Franklin is drying up 
whether Asa Gray puts out his leaves as early as last year, and whether Maria Mitchell 
and Abigail Adams and Dorothea Dix hold in their ample and embowering arms as many 
singing birds, as usual, they will discover that a tree may be as interesting as the squirrel 
that skims along its trunk, or the thrush that calls from its leafy covert like a muezzin 
from a minaret. 

It is pleasant to remember on Arbor Day that Bryant, our oldest American poet and 
the father of our American literature, is especially the poet of trees. 

He grew up among the solitary hills of Western Massachusetts when the woods were 
his nursery and the trees his earliest comrades. The solemnity of the forest breathes- 
through all his verse, and he had always, even in the city, a grave rustic air as of a man 
who heard the bubbling brooks and to whom the trees told their secrets. His poems will 
be so naturally read on Arbor Day that it will keep his memory green, and the poet of the 
trees will become the familiar friend of American boys and girls who, by tender nurture 
of the trees, will have learned to say with him : 

" Nay, doubt we not that under the rough rind. 
In the green veins of their fair growth of earth, 
There dwells a nature that receives delight 
From all t&e gentle processes of life, 
And shrinks from loss of being." 

Bryant liked to think of himself as associated with trees, and modestly forecasts his 
name blended with trees and the fruit so precious to all us American girls and boys, or 
men or women. 

"Who planted this old apple tree? 
The children of that distant day. 
Thus to some aged man shall say ; 
And gazing on its mossy stem, 
The gray-haired man shall answer them, 

A poet of the land was he. 
Born in the rude but good old times, 
'Tis said he made some quaint old rhymes. 
On planting the apple tree." 

With ever}' good wish for the boys and girls who will plant the trees, and for the trees 
which they will plant, I am Very truly yours, 

George William Curtis. 

From Hon. David Murray, ex-Secretary of Board of Regents of the University of 
the State of New York. 

Regents' Office, Albany, N. Y., April 10, 1SS9. 

My Dear Sir — I am pleased to hear that you are preparing to celebrate Arbor Day 
in some appropriate way. Nothing can be more fitting than for the scholars In our 
schools to unite in exercises for the planting and protection of trees. The time has come 
for us to concern ourselves with the preservation of our forests and the multiplication of 
the trees, vines and shrubs which do so much to make the earth which we inhabit beau- 
tiful and salubrious. 

I lived many years in Japan, which is one of the most lovely countries on the face of 
the earth. Its beauty is largely due to the noble trees which everywhere line the roads 
and envelop its surface. Its climate is warm and moist and therefore well adapted to- 
the growth of luxuriant vegetation. But there can be no question that in a great measure 
the thriving and kept groves and avenues of trees owe their continued existence to the 
fostering care of the government. During a great part of the two hundred and fifty years 
of the Shogun's government, it was a well-understood and definite regulation that, when- 
ever a tree was cut down for any purpose, two others should be planted to take its place. 
The effect of such a regulation is now apparent. In the great cities of Tokio, Kiots and 
Osaka, ever}' available space is filled with noble trees. Along the great government 
roads, which lead through the islands, tall and graceful cedars in double rows line the 
pathway and give both a cool shade and graceful vistas. I have driven through fifty miles 
of such an avenue in going from Tokio to the burial place of the Shoguns of Nikko. 

What old and picturesque countries have been able to do, it now devolves on us to 
take timelv measures to do. The forests of our country, which no long time ago were so 
abundant that they covered every fertile road, have been cut down, until many portions 






ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



359 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y.— Continued. 

of the country are denuded. The streams which once flowed through oozy beds and 
gathered contributions from every foot of progress now have dwindled to little rivulets, 
which only show their strength when rain-storms fill their channels. 

Let us create a sentiment and enthusiasm in reference to restoring and preserving in 
some reasonable degree the forests which the ignorance or the cupidity of preceding gen- 
erations have destroyed. 

That you are disposed to do your share under the law which the Legislature of this 
State passed, is to me a great source of gratification. That you may be abundantly suc- 
cessful, and that the scholars under your charge may find a true and noble satisfaction in 
providing for their own pleasure, and the pleasure of the generations to follow them, is 
the sincere wish of Yours sincerely, 

David Murray. 

From Hon. B. G. Northrop, Clinton, Ct., to whom we are indebted for much of the in- 
terest that is being taken in Arbor Day and tree culture throughout the country. 

Clinton, Ct., April 25, 1889. 

Dear Sir— - Arbor Day for economic tree-planting was started seventeen years ago in 
Nebraska, by ex-Governor J. Sterling Morton, whose efforts were seconded by the " State 
Board of Agriculture" and " Board of Horticulture," liberal prizes being offered to the 
counties that should do the most in this line, So great enthusiasm was awakened that, 
according to the official reports, more than 12,000,000 trees were planted on the first State 
Arbor, Day. The interest then awakened has continued and extended so that now there 
are over 605,000,000 trees growing in Nebraska which were planted by human hands. 

The settler there who does not plant trees on his " section " is now the exception. The 
Nebraskans now glory in the old name, "The Great American Desert," which for three 
hundred miles west of the Missouri river has been made habitable and hospitable by tree- 
planting and cultivation here. 

Kansas soon followed the example of Nebraska, and now rejoices in the growth and 
influence of millions of planted trees. Two other Western States soon joined in this good 
work. 

At the outset, "Arbor Day" in schools was not thought of, economic tree-planting 
being the only aim. The progress of this work has been most gratifying. Less than 
seven years ago a resolution in favor of observing Arbor Day in schools in every State, 
which I offered in the American Forestry Congress, was unanimously adopted and a com- 
mittee appointed to push that work. As their chairman, I have presented the subject 
personally, or by letter, to the Governors of all our States and Territories, and now thirty- 
four States are observing " Arbor Day." 

This movement has spread across the continent, and individuals and railway companies 
as well as States have shared in the work. Adolph Sutro, the millionaire of San Fran- 
cisco, gave 60,000 small trees to the school children of that city to plant in the parks and 
around the homes. 

California is teaching the East a much needed lesson in favor of planting very young 
trees. The experience on the prairies and especially in the Trans-Missouri river States 
is decisive on this subject. The many million trees now growing in Nebraska, Kansas, 
and other Western States, as well as in California, were planted when mere saplings, they 
are more easily dug up with all their capillary roots and more sure to grow. They cost 
less and are more cheaply transplanted. In ten years, these saplings — yearlings or " two- 
year-olds" will overtake those ten or more years old when planted, and will be always 
healthier and handsomer. I have tested this matter by giving some 11,000 small trees to 
the citizens of Clinton, Ct., mostly to the school children, during the last seven years. 
Few of these trees were over three years from the seed. The result has been most grati- 
fying both in their beauty and rapidity of growth. 

One of the pleasant things in Arbor Day observance is the hearty co-operation often 
shown by influential and wealth}' citizens. Governor Perry and State School Superin- 
tendent Russell, of Florida, enlisted enthusiastically in the work of their first Arbor Day, 
and the results were a most grateful surprise to them. So general was the interest that 
Governor Perry, in an official letter, congratulated the pupils and people of the State on 
their grand response to his proclamation. 

The observance of Vermont's first Arbor Day was general and enthusiastic. In the 
town of Rutland over 3.500 trees were set out, 2,000 of them in the new village of Proctor, 
named from ex-Governor Proctor, now Secretary of War, who exerted himself success- 
fully to make the day a jubilee for all. 

New York, if the last of the Northern States to pass an Arbor Day law, is foremost in 
the thorough and liberal provisions of this act, making it the duty of the school authori- 
ties throughout the State to provide such exercises on Arbor Day as shall tend to encour- 
age scholars in the planting, protection and preservation of trees and shrubs, and gives 



>6o ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs.-Port Henry, N. If.— Continued. 

the State Superintendent authority to prescribe the exercises and print and send to every 
school in the State full circulars of instruction. State Superintendent Draper is working 
up this subject with great efficiency. 

In a lecture trip, quite across the State, I find such interest and enthusiasm in this work 
among teachers and school superintendents as warrant the expectation that New York's 
first Arbor Day will witness the planting of more trees, shrubs and vines in school 
grounds and approaches around the homes, and by the road sides, than were ever started 
before on any one day in this State, however much has already been done. 

In large cities, there may seem to be little room for tree-planting and no call for a holi- 
day for this work, but even then fit talks, or the memorizing of suitable selections such 
as Superintendent Draper recommends will be useful, and there are few homes where 
children cannot find some place for shrubs, vines or flowers, if not for trees. 

Though the course of study is already over-crowded, trees and tree-planting form a fit 
subject for oral lessons, now common in all our best schools. Such talks will lead youth 
to observe and admire our noble trees, and to realize that the)' are the grandest products 
of nature. 

Our schools can render new service to the State, as well as to the pupils by leading them 
to observe the habits of trees and appreciate their value and beauty, thus making them 
practical arborists, as is contemplated in the New York Arbor Day Law. Superintendent 
Draper's suggestions, that a vote shall be taken in all the schools to ascertain which is 
their choice for " State Tree," and compositions by scholars each on " My Favorite Tree," 
and of planting " Memorial Trees," and the dedication of one tree in every district to 
Washington, will tend to deepen and extend the sentiment of trees, and thus realize the 
motto of Dr. Holmes and " Make Trees Monuments of History and Character." 

Cordially yours, 

B. G. Northrop. 

From Hon. B. E. Fernow, Chief of Forestry Division, United States Department of 
Agriculture. 

Washington, D. C, April 4, 1SS9. 

Dear Sir — Your letter giving me an account of your successful Arbor Day exercises 
of last year and requesting some words of encouragement as a stimulus to the exertions 
of your pupils for the present season, Galls to mind the well-known proverb: "Tall Oaks 
From Little Acorns Grow." There is a deep meaning in these words, especially in con- 
nection with Arbor Day. 

Has it occurred to you, that with the inauguration of Arbor Day in almost all the 
States — now thirty at least — we inaugurate an era of reform ? Have your boys and girls 
understood that, in planting the shade and lawn trees with festive celebration, the)- do 
only start a new vegetable growth, deriving pleasure from the work and its progress from 
vear to year, but they also plant the seed of a new era in the economy of our nation, that 
they foreshadow a reform in our methods of utilizing the bountiful resources of our 
country ? 

What is the object of Arbor Day ? To plant shade trees and have a good time ? Oh no! 
Although the setting of a tree is useful and pleasurable, although the festivities attending 
it are pleasurable and useful in impressing the mind with -the memory of the occasion, 
the deeper object of Arbor Day is to so imbue the coming generation with a love of tree 
growth and tree planting, that out of a nation of wood-choppers there may arise a nation 
of tree-planters and foresters. 

When first our forefathers came to this country, it was a dense forest, and to make 
fields and agriculture it was necessary to get rid of the forest at any cost. This has pro- 
duced in our nation a hatred against trees, and we have cut away and slashed and burnt, 
until now it becomes necessary to cry a halt and reverse our actions. With the opening 
up and settlement of the treeless prairies and plains, the settlers i.n that new country have 
learned to appreciate the usefulness of trees, and it is to one of those States — Nebraska — 
that Arbor Day took its origin, and now millions of trees are planted there on that day. 

With clearing in the Eastern States it became apparent, that we were getting short of 
useful timber, and also that the favorable influence which the forests exert on climate and 
on the even water-flow of our streams, was interfered with. And so Arbor Daj' became 
established in the Eastern States, especially in the schools. 

What more encouragement to go on with this work need there be for a patriotic Ameri- 
can boy, than the thought that by his action he is helping to shape the development of his 
people and his country in the right direction ? And when he doubts whether this mite of 
his can really have any effect upon the great nation, let him recall the proverb, " Tall oaks 
from little acorns grow," and plant his acorn or his tree in confidence of a desirable result. 

With best wishes for your good work, I am Truly yours ; 

B. E. Fernow. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



36l 



Specimen Programs. - Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
3. SONG.—* "Arbor Day March." Ten Pupils from 2nd Primary Department. 

These pupils each had a flag about seventeen inches long. They sang the first stanza and 
chorus as they marched on the stage from an adjoining room. During the singing of the 
first two lines of the chorus the}' waved their flags in unison with their singing. During 
the rest of the singing and marching they kept the flags at right shoulder shift. After 
reciting the following selection, they sang the second stanza, and marched off the stage 
as they were singing the chorus. 

CONCERT RECITATION BY THE SAME TEN PUPILS r "OUR ARBOR DAY IX MAY." 

All the buds and bees are singing ; Look, dear children, look ! the meadows, 

Ali the lily bells are ringing; When the sunshine chases shadows 

All the brooks run full of laughter, Are alive with fairy faces, 

And the wind comes whispering after. Peeping from their grassy places 

What is this they. sing and say ? What is this the flowers say ? 
"It is May ! " It is May ! 

It is our Arbor Day ! It is our Arbor Day i 

Hurrah ! hurrah for our Arbor Day !" Hurrah! hurrah for our Arbor Day !" 

See ! the fair blue sky is brighter, 
And our hearts with hope are lighter; 
All the bells of joy are ringing ; 
All are grateful voices singing ; 
All the storms have passed away ; 
" It is May ! 

It is our Arbor Day ! 

Hurrah ! hurrah for our Arbor Day ! " 

When the children recited the last line of each stanza, they waved their flags in an ap- 
propriate manner. In this exercise the children marched as they sang, without any organ 
accompaniment. In the following exercises the pupils marched to the music of the organ. 

4. THE PLEA OF THE TREES. Ten Pupils of 1st Primary Department. 

Concert Recitation : 

And now in the forest the woodman doth stand, Fourth Pupil. THE OAK. 

His eye marks the victims to fall by his hand. T am the oak the ki of the t 

And a 1 the trees shiver and tremble tor tear. Calmly I rise, and spread bv slow degrees ; 

Hark! they plead for their lives ! will the wood- Three centuries I grow ; and three I sfay 

cutter hear . Supreme in state ; and in three more decav. 

First Pupil. THE BEECH. 

Oh, leave this barren spot to me ! Fifth Pupil. THE ELM. 

Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree ! Each morning when thy waking eyes first see, 

Thrice twenty summers I have seen Through the wreathed lattice, golden day appear. 

The sky grow bright, the forest green ; Here sits the robin, on the old elm tree. 

And many a wintry wind have stood And with such stirring music tills the ear, 

In blootnless, fruitless solitude, Thou mightst forget that life had pain 01 fear, 

Since childhood in my pleasant bower And feel again as thou wast wont to do [new. 

First spent its sweet and sportive hour. When hope was young and joy and life itself were 

And on my trunk's surviving frame 

Carved many a long forgotten name. Sixth Pupil. THE HEMLOCK. 

As love's own altar honors me. I am the hemlock. 

Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree. T shake the snow on the ground bdoWi 

Second Pupil. THE MAPLE. , ™ er . e ' h ? flow f. rs safely sleep; 

* And all night long, though winds blow strong. 

I am the maple. A care f u l watch I keep. 

O come this wav 

On a hot July day Seventh Pupil. THE WILLOW. 
If my worth you would know ; T _ „ ,, .,, ._, 

fcsdlS L^inty^eezymoan 

WbXSSSfiiS&hUm. T'hroug^v^-s^r whispering low 

Third Pupil. THE HICKORY. Faint, sweet sounds of long ago. 

When the autumn comes its round. Many a mournful tale of old 

Rich, sweet walnuts will.be found Heartsick man to me has told ; 

Covering thicklv ail the ground Gathering from my golden bough 

Where my boughs are spread. Leaves to cool his burning brow. 

Ask the boys that visit me, Many a swan like song to me 

Full of happiness and glee. Hath been chanted mournfully ; 

If they'd mourn the hickory tree. Many a lute its last lament 

Were it felledand dead. Down my moonlight stream hath sent. 



362 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. V. — Continued. 

Concert Recitation : 



Woodman, spare each tree ! 

Harm not a single bough ! 
In youth they sheltered thee, 

You should protect them now. 



These old familiar trees 

Whose glory and renown 
Are spread o'er lands and seas — 

And wouldst thou hack them down ? 



Woodman, stay thy hand 

Cut not their earth-bound ties ; 
O spare these trees so grand, 

Now towering to the skies. 

Each pupil had a bough of the tree which he or she represented, and made an appro- 
priate gesture when speaking of himself or herself. 



5. A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS. Ten Pupils of 2nd Intermediate Department. 



First Pupil. THE ARBUTUS. 

If Spring has Maids of Honor — 

And why should not the Spring, 
With all her dainty service, 

Have thought of some such thins 

If Spring has Maids of Honor — 
Arbutus leads the train; 

A lovelier, a fairer, 

The Spring would seek in vain. 



Second Pupil. THE ROSE. 

I am the blushing rose, 

Bending with my fulness, 
'Midst my close-capped sister buds, 

Warming the green coolness 

Hold me very lightly 

See from what a slender 
Stalk I bower in heavy blooms. 

And roundness rich and tender. 

Third Pupil. THE VIOLET. 
I am the violet, and I dwell 
Under the shade of the sweet Heathbell, 
Earl}', at dawning, it rings, and it rings, 
To waken me, ere the Redbreast sings. 
I am happy, so happy, the live-long day ; 
For I love in my lowly home to stay; 
And I know that the sunny days of Spring 
The love of the children to me will bring. 

Fourth Pupil. THE BUTTERCUP. 
I am the Buttercup, shining like gold; 
With a smile for the young, and a smile for the old, 
I grow in the sunshine, and grow in the shade; 
I'm the cheeriest flower that ever was made. 
When the little ones find me they dance with de- 
light, 
As they fill up their aprons with Buttercups bright 
"Now see who loves butter ! " they shouting begin 
As they hold me up under each lily-white chin. 



Fifth Pupil. THE LILY. 

I am the lily fair, 
The flower of virgin light ; 
Nature held me forth and said, 
" Lo ! my thought of white."' 

Ever since then, angels 

Hold me in their hands; 

You may see them when they take 

In pictures their sweet stands. 

Like the garden's angel 

Also do I seem ; 

And not the less for being crowned 

With a golden dream. 

Sixth Pupil. THE DANDELION. 

I am the common Dandelion, that grow'th beside 

the way, 
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold ; 
First pledge of blithesome May, 
Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, 
High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they 
An Eldorado in the grass have found, 
AVhich not the rich earth's ample round 
May match in wealth. 

Seventh Pupil. THE DAISY. 

I am the bright Daisy, whose home is everywhere 

A pilgrim bold in nature's care, 

And all the long year through the heir of joy and 

sorrow. 
Methinks that there abides in me 
Some concord with humanity, 
Given to no other flower I see 

The forest through. 

Glittering from afar, 

I seem a pretty star ; 
Not quite so fair as many are 

In heaven above me ! 
Yet like a star, with glittering crest, 
Self-posed in air I seem to rest. 



Concert Recitation : Chorus of Flowers. 

We are the sweet flowers, Oh! true things are fables, 

Born of sunny showers, Fit for sagest tables, 

Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith; And the flowers are true things — yet no fables they. 



Utterance, mute and bright, 

Of some unknown delight. 
We till the air with pleasure, by our simple breath ; 

All who see us love us — 

We befit all places ; 
Unto sorrow we give smiles and unto graces, races, 

Murk our ways, how noiseless 

All, and sweetly voiceless 
Though the March winds pipe to make our passage 
clear ; 

Not a whisper tells 

Where our small seed dwells, 
Nor is known the moment green when our tips 
appear. 

We thread the earth in silence, 

In silence build our bowers, — 
And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh a-top 
sweet flowers. 



Fables were not more 

Bright, nor loved of yore ; 
Yet they grew not, like the flowers, by every old 
pathway, 

Grossest hand can test us, 

Fools may prize us never, [ever. 

Yet we rise, and rise, and rise — marvels sweet for- 

Who shall say that flowers 

Dress not heaven's own bowers ? 
Who its love, without us, can fancy — or sweet floor ? 

Who shall ever dare 

To say we sprang not there, 
And came not down, that Love might bring one piece 
of heaven the more ? 

O pray believe that angels 

From these blue dominions [pinions. 

Bought usin their white laps down, 'twixt their golden 



Each pupil had a bunch of flowers pinned on him or her to indicate what he or she 
represented. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



1^3 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. IT. — Continued. 

6. CHORUS. * " Forest Song."— By W. H. Venable. High School. 

Accompanied as before. 
This was sung to the air, " A Life on the Ocean Wave." 

7. * " THE MARRIAGE OF THE FLOWERS." Ten Pupils from 1st Interme- 

diate Department. 

Each pupil reciting two stanzas and decked with some flower represented. 

8. LESSONS FROM NATURE ABOUT TREES. Ten Pupils from 2d Grammar 

Department. 

First Pupil : 

We will listen to some facts about a seed. 

Second Pupil : 

A seed is a young plant and is packed ready for transportation. It has a tin)' stem,, 
some seed leaves, and a terminal bud. The mother tree, before casting off her progeny 
into the world, did not fail to give it a little outfit in the form of starch for food stored 
up in or surrounding the thick seed leaves. As the young chicks while in the shell are 
nourished by the yolk of the egg, so the voung Oak or Maple subsists on the starch 
stored up before ripening. 

First Pupil : 

We would like to hear something about Nature's tree-planters, the squirrels. 

Third Pupil: 

The squirrels eat many nuts, but carry a portion to some distance in every direction, 
where they plant one or two in a place. It may be the thought of the squirrel to return 
at some future time of need, but his bump of locality is not well developed, or he has laid 
up more than he needed. At all events some of the nuts are allowed to remain where he 
planted them. In this way he is a benefit to the trees, and pays for the nuts he eats. He 
has not lived in vain, for he is a tree-planter and believes in arboriculture. His Arbor 
Days come in autumn, and he needs no Governor's message to stimulate him to work. 

First Pupil: 

Describe the mechanism of a tree. 

Fourth Pupil : 

A tree receives its nourishment from the roots. These correspond to the mouth in the 
human frame. The nourishment taken in by the roots, or mouths, passes to the lungs of 
the tree, and then, by contact with the air, is rendered fit to supply material to the tree. 
The tree's lungs are the leaves. This operation is effected by the passage upward from 
the soil, through the trunk, the branches, and every twig of the tree to the leaves, of a 
large quantity of water, containing the nutriment for the tree. Arrived at the leaves, 
contact with the air causes a large amount of water to be given off, and the nutriment 
with certain portions of the air are carried back and deposited in leaf, bark and root, 
where the digestive process is carried still further. 

First Pupil : 

When do our trees make their growth, and how do they get read)' for the next year? 

Fifth Pupil: 

Most of our trees put forth their new growth during a few weeks in spring or early- 
summer. Do you wonder what they are doing during the rest of the warm weather? 
Thev are by no means idle. They may be perfecting flowers and seeds, but all of them 
are getting ready for the next winter and spring. Through the influence of light and 
heat, the green leaves are forming starch, which is transported and stored in the pith, 
young wood and bark. The young leaves and stems are started and arranged, packed in 
cotton, covered by scales and in some cases the scales are protected by pitch or varnish. 

First Pupil : 

Describe the tree as a community. 

Sixth Pupil: 

A tree is a composite being, a kind of community by itself. The leaves and limbs are 
all the time striving with each other to see which shall have the most room and the most sun- 
shine. Each strives for all it can get. While some perish in the attempt, or meet with 
only very indifferent success, the strongest of the strongest buds survive. Each leaf helps to 



364 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y". — Continued. 

sustain the limb which carries it, and each limb furnishes some nourishment to the common 
trunk for the common welfare. The tax is always adjusted according to the ability of 
each to contribute. As the limbs of a tree are striving for the mastery, so each bush and 
tree in grove or forest is striving with others for the mastery. The weakest succumb to 
the strongest ; some perish early, some lead a feeble existence for many years, while even 
the strongest are more or less injured. With plenty of room, the trunk will be short, the 
branches many and wide-spread ; where crowded, the lower limbs perish for want of light. 
Dead limbs fall to the ground to protect and enrich it for nourishing the surviving limbs 
and the trunk. The scars heal over, more limbs perish as new ones creep upward, and 
thus we find tall, clean trunks in a dense forest. 

First Pupil : 

How is moisture retained by forests ? 

Seventh Pupil • 

The bed of the forest is a widely spread surface, piled thick with leaves, twigs, pieces 
of fallen branches, and remnants of decayed logs, covering another layer of the same sub- 
stances in a state of partial decomposition, overlying yet another strata completely decom- 
posed, — altogether forming a deep pot or hollow framework, penetrated with myriads of 
pipes, tubes, and aqueducts, and interspersed with millions of miniature logs, blocking 
and holding in position the flow of water, until the humus below fully absorbs it. The 
large and perpendicular tap-roots which many trees possess, pass deep into the solid clay 
strata, and send through the earth a slow and steady supply of water, which, traveling 
away from the forests and under the cultivated fields, supply the great lower bed of moist- 
ure, that, continually rising, fertilizes the upper soil. Phipps. 

Fhst Pupil : 

What effect has the cutting of forests on the water supply? 
Eighth Pupil: 

The protection afforded by the forest against the escape of moisture from its soil by 
•superficial overflow and evaporation insures the permanence and regularity of natural 
springs. To destroy the forest of a mountain slope is to devote the height to barrenness, 
the valley to flood, and both to parching drought. The spring and autumn rain-fall, in- 
stead of being stored up in Nature's reservoirs, sweeps down through the valleys in sud- 
den and violent floods, carrying destruction with it, to be followed a little later by long 
droughts, and very low water. 

Concert Recitation : 

I love thee in the Spring, In the hot Summer time. 

Earth-crowned forest ! when amid the shades AVith deep delight, the somber aisles I roam. 

The gentle South first waves her odorous wing, Or, soothed by some cool brook's melodious chime 

And joy fills all the glades. Rest on thy verdant loam. 

But O, when Autumn's hand 
Hath marked thy beauteous foliage for the grave, 
How doth thy splendor, as entranced I stand, 

My willing heart enslave. 

The pupils were decked appropriately. The one who recited about the seed had a little 
bunch of wheat in the head pinned on. Others had branches of trees and flowers. The 
leader stepped out in front of the pupils and directed the question to the one who was to 
answer, and then took her place in the ranks. The answers followed. 

9. * " THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE." Ten Pupils from 1st Gram- 
mar Department. 

Concert Recitation : first and last verses ; other verses recited by different pupils. 

It was originally planned to have these pupils carry a branch of the apple tree in bloom, 
but it was too early, and we did not succeed in forcing nature. In addition, they were to 
have pinned on them a bunch of apple blossoms. As it was, we had them modestly 
decked with as appropriate flowers as we could secure. Modesty characterized all the 
decorations. We had enough to make the pupils look fine, and not a superfluity. 

10. SONG.—* " SWINGING 'NEATH THE OLD APPLE TREE." The same 
Ten Pupils and High School. 

First stanza repeated and the chorus repeated softly, at the close. The singing as with 
the other songs was accompanied by organ and two violins. The ten Grammar School 
pupils sang the separate stanzas, and the High School came in with them on the chorus. 
The second "swinging" each time was not sung but simply played by the organ and 
violins. The effect was fine. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



to 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. IT. — Continued. 
DEDICATION EXERCISES. 

1. CHORUS.— " Plant the Trees, Children." Air: " Ring the Bell, Watchman." 
A chorus of over four hundred voices. 

Round the green play-ground the dear children When you are old you may bask in the shade 

stand. Which by the growth of this planting is made. 

Joy in their faces and shovel in hand, Your children's children, so Heaven decrees. 

Waiting a word to be borne on the breeze— Will rejoice you heard the summons : " Plant, plant 

Ready for the welcome mandate: " Plant, plant the the trees." 
trees." 

Chorus. 

Plant the trees, children, plant, yes plant, g} an t trees °\ knowledge vvhere ignorance reigns; 

Plant for a joy that the future will grant, P la , nt tr , e es of virtue on sin s arid plains ; 

New York again sends her word on the breeze- M , ake . of yourselves trees of righteousness; these 

Joyfully obey the summons : " Plant, plant the Plantings fill the world with beauty ; Plant, plant 
trees." ttle trees - 

When having passed to the happier land, 

Fast by the " Tree of Life " joyful you stand, 

Gladly you'll learn how the Master decrees 

Earthly planting blooms in glory ; " Plant, plant the trees." 

2. Reading Letters and Short Sketches of the Lives of those to whom Trees were 

Dedicated. Pupils of the High School. 

Trees were dedicated to George Washington, Francis Parkman, Joel T. Headley, 
Benson J. Lossing, Will Carleton and Donald G. Mitchell. 

[From Francis Parkman, American Historian.] 

Boston, April 26, 1889 

Dear Sir — I am much obliged to the pupils of the schools under your direction for 
their intention to dedicate a tree to me on Arbor Da}'. I could wish for no more pleasant 
form of commemoration, for a tree is the most charming of monuments. 

I hope your Arbor Day will be a great success. We once had on this continent such a 
superfluity of trees that our forefathers almost learned to regard them as enemies rather 
than as friends. If the present generation does not quickly learn to take a different view, 
the country will have cause to rue it. If the State and National governments do not pre- 
serve with care the forests about the sources of our great streams, including your admir- 
able Adirondack country, the regions watered by them will be the victims of alternate 
floods and droughts. It is not only the beauty of the landscape that will suffer, but many 
industrial interests will be sorely injured, and the more this is impressed on the minds of 
the rising generation, the better it will be for them and their successors. 

Yours respectfully, 

Francis Parkman. 

[From Joel Tyler Headley, an American Historian.] 

Newburgh, N. Y., April 26, 1889. 

Dear Sir — I am glad to see that the Superintendent of Public Schools in Port Henry 
takes such a warm interest in Arbor Day. I am sure he will infuse the same enthusiasm 
into the scholars and make the first Arbor Day in New York a grand success, and one 
long to be remembered. 

The conception of an Arbor Day was a happy inspiration in Mr. Morton, and I have, 
ever since its first establishment, taken a deep interest in its first observance. 

The love of trees in itself is elevating, but when they become links between scholars 
and authors, men distinguished for the good they have done, they awaken pleasant asso- 
ciations and establish pleasant memories that cannot fail to help form character. Arbor 
Day recognizes the fact too often overlooked, that education does not consist merely in 
imparting knowledge, but in cultivating the taste, in making good impressions on the 
heart, and arousing the best and purest feelings, and in giving sympathies a right direc- 
tion — in short, in developing the whole character harmoniously. 

It is pleasant to know that there are children in Port Henry who will make a tree a link 
between me and them, and cause them to think of me when Arbor Day comes round in 
succeeding years, even after I am dead. Very sincerely yours, 

Joel T. Headley. 



3 66 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 

[From Benson J. Lossing, an American Historian.] 

The Ridge, Dover Plains, N. Y., April 22, 1889. 

My Dear Sir — Impressing on the minds of the young the importance of performing 
certain duties is sure to bear abundant fruit in the future. 

Among the duties which every generation owes to posterity, that of tree-planting, 
whether for the production of fruit, or for shade, or for timber, is very conspicuous. Ii 
is a beneficent and patriotic service, for it redounds to the comfort of man and the good 
of one's country. 

Bryant wrote, long ago : 

" The groves were God'sfirst temples. Ere man learned Might not resist the sacred influences 

To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, Which, from the stillv twilight of the place, 

And spread the roof above them — ere he framed And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 

The lofty vault, to gather and roll back Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 

The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 

Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down. All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 

And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks His spirit with the thought of boundless power 

And supplication. For his simple heart And inaccessible majesty." 

Thus were trees spontaneously dedicated to the worship of the Almighty. 

Trees have stood for generations, living witnesses of notable deeds of men. Many in 
our own country have been so made memorable. I will allude to a few of them. 

On the banks of the Genesee river stood an oak believed to have been a thousand 
years old, called "The Big Tree." Under it the Seneca Nation of Indians held coun- 
cils ; and it gave the title, " Big Tree," to one of the eminent chiefs of that nation, at the 
period of our Revolution. I measured it in the summer of 1857. It was twenty-six feet 
in circumference. It was swept away by a flood in the autumn of that year. 

The Elm tree at Philadelphia, under which William Penn made a treaty with the 
Indians in 16S2, stood until March, 1810, when it was prostrated by a gale. 

A pear-tree that stood on the corner of Thirteenth street and Third avenue, in New 
York city, bore fruit until i860, when it perished. It was planted in his garden by Peter 
Stuyvesant, the last Dutch Governor of New Netherlands (now New York), in 1667. 

In Cambridge, Mass., near Boston, there yet stands, though in a decaying condition, 
the huge Elm tree under which Washington took command of the Continental Army in 
July, 1775. The holder of the pen with which this letter is written is a piece of that tree. 

There stood, until 1840, near Charleston, S. C, a magnificent magnolia tree, under 
which Gen. Lincoln signed the capitulation of that city in 17S9. I saw it lying prostrate, 
felled by an axe. 

The Charter Oak, in Hartford, Ct., which was prostrated by a September gale in 1848, 
when it measured twenty-five feet in circumference, was estimated to be six hundred 
5'ears old, when the first emigrants, under Hooker, from Boston to the Connecticut Valley, 
looked upon it with wonder. 

The " Fox Oak," at Flushing, Long Island, under which George Fox, the founder of 
the Society of Friends, or Quakers, preached in 1676, perished only a few years ago. It, 
and another like it, stood near the house of John Browne, who had espoused the religious 
tenets of Fox, and who entertained him on the occasion of his visit. 

This list might be greatly enlarged. My letter is already too long, and I will close by 
expressing a hope that the young people under your charge who may engage in tree- 
planting on Arbor Day will appreciate the importance and value of their pleasant task. 

Please present to the young workers my kindest salutations, and accept the same for 
yourself. Yours very truly, 

Benson J. Lossing. 

[From Will Carleton, an American Poet.] 

420 Green Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y., April 26, 1889 

Dear Sir — Yours of the 6th is received. I appreciate deeply the honor conferred by 
you and your school, in dedicating a tree to me, and hope to stand, sometime, with you 
and them, beneath its shade. 

Trees are silent sentinels, that never desert their post, till death or violence calls or 
drives them away. They are friends, protectors and teachers ; the}' lead us naturally by 
their innocent, lofty beauty, to " look through Nature up to Nature's God." 

With kind regards to all, I remain Yours sincerely, 

Will Carleton. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 367 

Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 

[From Donald G. Mitchell (" Ik Marvel "), an American author.] 

Edgewood, April 27, 1889. 

My Dear Sir — Your favor came duly and I feel very much honored by the association 
of my name — in even so slight a degree — with your proposed good work of tree-plant- 
ing, and suppose that I owe the flattering attention of which you speak, to my often 
declared allegiance to country pursuits, and a stead)' faith in the good that comes from 
every-day familiarity with the flowers, and the trees, and the sunshine. 

I'm not sure but I love trees even better than books ; — love them young, and love 
them old ; and those mis-shapen and of foul growth, I love to cut and burn — (wishing 
I could do the same for many books I encounter). 

Pray commend me to your young bands of tree-lovers, and believe me, 

Very truly yours, 

Donald G. Mitchell. 

3. Dedication Selections by seven pupils, representing the seven departments in the 

main school building. 

First Pupil: 

We, representatives of the school children of New York State, meet to-day to do our 
share toward making our country more beautiful and fertile. A treeless yard or street is 
unsightly and desolate, and how much more a whole city or district ! Believing that the 
wholesale destruction of trees is an injur)' to our land, and wishing to make the place 
where we live more beautiful, we now replace a worthless tree by a new, thrifty and 
■vigorous growth. 

Second Pupil „• Third Pupil : 

All ye woods, and trees, and bow'rs, Green and lovely thou shalt stand, 

All ye virtues and ye pow'rs O thou tree ! 

That inhabit in the lakes. While the summer breeze 

In the pleasant springs or brakes, Sweeps thy crest with its caressing hand, 

Move your feet Strong and stately thou shalt rear 
To our sound Thy proud form, 

Whilst we greet While the winter storms 

On this ground. Strip thee of the leaves that were so dear. 

Fourth Pupil : Fifth Pupil : 

He who plants a tree He who plants a tree, 

Plants a hope. He plants love : 

Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope ; Tents of coolness spreading out above 

Leaves unfold into horizons free, Wayfarers, he may not live to see. 

So man's life must climb Gifts that grow are best ; 

From the clods of time Hands that bless are blest; 

Unto heavens sublime. Plant ! Life does the rest. 

Can'st thou prophesy, thou little tree, Heaven and earth help him whoplantsa tree, 

What the glory of thy boughs shall be ? And his work its own reward shall be. 

Lucy Larcom. 

Sixth Pupil: 

"There is something noble, simple and pure in a taste for trees. It argues, I think, 
a sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish for beauties of vegetation, and this 
friendship for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought 
connected with this part of rural economy. It is worthy of liberal, and free-born, and 
aspiring men. He who plants an Oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for pos- 
terity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot expect to sit in its shade nor 
enjoy its shelter; but he exults in the idea that the acorn which he has buried in the earth 
shall grow up into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing and increasing and benefit- 
ing mankind long after he shall have ceased to tread his paternal fields." 

Seventh Pupil : 

O happv tree which we plant today, In your cool shade will tired feet 

What great good fortune waits you ! Pause, weary, when 'tis summer, 

For vou w ill grow in sun and snow, And rest like this will be most sweet 
Till age and death o'ertake you. To every tired new-comer. 

Your winter covering of snow, So do they work, O graceful tree ! 

Will dazzle with its splendor, Thouhast a share in giving ; 

Your summer's garb, with richest glow. If thou shalt bless mankind like these, 

Will feast of beauty render. Thy life will be worth living. 

After reciting his selection each pupil placed a shovel of dirt around the tree. This 
he did as a representative of his department. 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 



Specimen Programs. - Port Henry, N. IT. — Continued. 
4. CHORUS.— * The Class Tree. A Chorus of over four hundred voices. 

All the trees dedicated have the names of those to whom they were dedicated on the 
frame work around the trees. 

The blackboards in the High School in which the in-door exercises were held, were 
very tastefully decorated with appropriate drawings made with colored and uncolored 
crayons by our pupils. 



BELATED. 



A SINGLE buttercup I found, 
A star upon my weary way, 
As summer closed her heated round, 
And ushered in the autumn day. 



A)', yes, I slept, I sweetly dreamed 
Of babbling brook and azure sky, 

And in my foolish fancy deemed 

That flowers like me would never die. 



A little memory of May, 

That slept too late, as I have done, 
And so unknowingly gone astray, 

And now stoqd lonely in the sun. 



From such a dream why should I wake, 
Afar and in another zone — 

Wake only that the heart may break 
To find myself alone, alone? 



It seemed with anxious look to ask, 

Are all my bright companions dead ? 

Or have I slept, forgetting task, 

Until the lovely May has sped ? 



And this it is to live too long, 
To overpass our proper time, 

And hear, instead of merry song, 

The bells of death in solemn chime. 



There waves around me autumn-grain ; 

I see the ripened apples shine ; 
I feel the patter of the rain ; 

I see the grapes that blush with wine. 



So, too, with man ; youth slept away, 
He wakes to find a useless age, 

And wearily from day to day 

Drags out an aimless pilgrimage. 

Whittier. 



A MAY SONG. 



THE orchard is a rosy cloud, 
The oak a rosy mist, 
And oh, the gold of the buttercups 
The morning sun has kissed ! 
There are twinkling shadows on the grass 

Of a myriad tiny leaves, 
And a twittering loud from the busy crowd 
That build beneath the eaves. 
Then sing, happy children, 

The bird and bee are here, 
The May time is a gay time, 

The blossom time o' the year. 
St. Nicholas, May, 1889. 



A message comes across the fields, 

Borne on the balmy air, 
For all the little seeking hands 

There are flowers enough and to spare. 
Hark ! a murmuring in the hive, — 

List ! a carol clear and sweet, — 
While feathered throats the thrilling notes 
A thousand times repeat. 

Then sing, happy children, 

The bird and bee are here, 
The May time is a gay time, 

The blossom time o' the year. 
Anna M. Pratt. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 369 



SPECIMEN PROGRAMS. 

Port Henry, N. Y. 

Arranged by Professor W. H. Benedict, now of the public schools of Elmira, N. Y., for an Arbor Day 
celebration in May, 1888, before the law had taken effect. 



PROGRAM. 
Selections marked * given in this volume. 

1. Reading of proposed Arbor Day law. 

2. Paper — "Arbor Day." 

3. Reading of letters : 

[From James Russell Lowell.] 

Deerfoot Farm, Southborough, March 28, 1S88. 
Dear Sir — I can think of no more pleasant way of being remembered than by the 
planting of a tree. Like whatever things are perennially good, it will be growing while 
we are sleeping, and will survive us to make others happier. Birds will rest in it and fly 
thence with messages of good cheer. I should be glad to think that any word or deed 
of mine could be such a perennial presence of beauty, or show so benign a destiny. I 
beg you and your pupils to accept my hearty good wishes. 

Faithfully yours, 

James Russell Lowell. 

[From Alice M. Longfellow.] 

Mt. Vernon, Va., May n, 1888. 
Dear Sir — I am sorry I was unable to write you a letter at the time you desired, but 
I hope your celebration of Arbor Day was very successful, that the children were fully 
interested in the occasion. I am glad you feel that this celebration is a means for bringing 
the school children into contact with the lives of our writers, as the love of nature and of 
literature ought surely to go together. Very truly yours, 

Alice M. Longfellow, 
(Daughter of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.) 

[From Oliver Wendell Holmes.] 

Boston, March 31, 1888. 

My Dear Sir — I must write a line or two with my own hand to thank you for your 
very kind letter, and to convey my best wishes to your pupils and their teachers. 

It is a great pleasure and privilege to find that one's thoughts find a hospitable recep- 
tion to the minds and hearts of friends who are personally unknown to us. 

Very truly yours. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

[From Edward W. Emerson.] 

Concord, Mass., April 28, 1888. 

Dear Sir — Your letter only came to-day: I hope mine will not be too late. It is 
pleasant to learn that your school children are finding new interest in good books, and in 
the wholesome book — Nature. 

I wish that they may find them the joy and inspiration that my father did. 

Boys are first led to the woods by trapping, shooting, or perhaps chopping, and girls 
by love of wild-flowers, but soon some will learn to love the woods and lonely places, 
not for these special reasons, but as their constant friends, comforting, resting them, ele- 
vating and renewing their thoughts. To go alone or with only one companion who really 
loves nature is necessary, for at a boisterous picnic the wood-gods are never found. 

As I am called to speak for my father, to-day, I will tell also to your boys and girls to 
carry away a good counsel which he gave to the boys and girls he met. It is this •. 
"Always do what you are afraid to do," meaning of course, what you feel you ought to 
do, if you only dared. 

Wishing you a pleasant celebration, and that your thoughts may grow and give you joy 
and seed for more. Sincerely yours, 

• Edward W. Emerson, 
24 (Son of Ralph Waldo Emerson.) 



3?o 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. "If. — Continued* 

[From John B. Peaslee.] 

Cincinnati, O., April 9, 1888. 

Dear Sir — It is a source of great and abiding pleasure to me that the celebration of 
memorial tree-planting by public schools which was inaugurated by us in Cincinnati in 
1SS2, has been so generally adopted in Ohio, and in eighteen other States of our Union 
and the Dominion of Canada ; and that this beautiful custom has crossed the ocean into 
England, and that it has led the Grand Army Posts in many parts of our own State and 
elsewhere, to plant trees, which are more durable than marble itself, in memory of their 
soldier dead, instead of strewing flowers which perish in a da}', upon their honored graves. 

As I said at the inauguration of this memorial tree-planting celebration in Author's Grove 
in our Eden Park, the trees which the children plant, or which they assist in dedicating, 
will become dearer and dearer to them as year after year rolls on. As the trees grow, and 
their branches expand in beauty, so will the love for them increase in the hearts of those 
bv whom they were planted or dedicated, and long before the children reach old age, they 
will almost venerate these green and living memorials of youthful and happy days ; and 
as those who have loved and cared for pets will ever be the friends of our dumb animals, 
so will the)' ever be the friends of our forest trees. From the individual to the general, 
is the law of our nature. Show me a person who in youth planted a tree, that has lived 
and flourished, and I will show you a friend of trees and of forest culture. Besides, by 
this memorial tree-planting, the children will become interested in the lives and works of 
the distinguished men and women in whose honor and memory the trees are planted. 

Heartily thanking } t ou for your kindness in asking me to participate by letter in your 
coming celebration, and sincerely hoping that all who take part in planting and dedi- 
cating the trees may live long to enjoy their beauty and their shades, 

I remain, yours truly, 

John B. Peaslee. 
(Then Superintendent of the Cincinnati Public Schools.) 

[From Hon. N. H. R. Dawson.] 

Washington, D. C, April 18, 18S8. 

Dear Sir — I notice with pleasure that you are preparing for the exercises of Arbor 
Day; that you desire to make it a complete success in every particular. Planting trees is 
a custom which should be fostered by all thoughtful people. The work is useful both to 
the person who does it, and the place in which it is done, and the result is both econom- 
ically profitable and aesthetically beautiful. A tree is a deposit in the bank of Nature 
which she repays in the future a thousandfold. Trees properly chosen and wisely planted, 
are pleasant for their shade, and profitable for their fruit, bark, or wood. They tend to 
equalize the rainfall; they promote the gradual drainage of water from soils, and increase 
the health of the locality ; they prevent the washing of surfaces into streams, and check 
the formation of shallows in rivers and bays ; while they favor the existence of insect- 
eating birds, and add indescribably to the charms of rural landscapes and of villages and 
city life. With your northern trees I am not personally familiar enough to say any thing 
of use. I know, however, that the native trees of the Middle States are various and 
beautiful enough to satisfy every condition. If you select some trees for their rapid 
growth, others for their longer life, some for their shade, and some for the value of their 
products, some for their early foliage, and some for their enduring verdure, you will not 
only make your young people familiar with the uses and beauties of trees, but you will 
be a public benefactor. I am glad to see that this custom is coming into so general use, 
and that the day is observed by the colleges and schools of many of our States. 

To give you an idea of the size which some of our trees attain, I mention a live oak which 
grew at Whale Branch plantation near Beaufort, S. C. This giant of the forest at some 
little distance looked like a clump of trees. The trunk was only fourteen feet high to 
the branches, which were like trees in size, and extended over a circle of one hundred 
and twenty feet in diameter, nearly reaching the ground, spreading out and forming a 
delightful resting place from the heats of summer. The trunk was over thirty-six feet in 
circumference. The age of this mammoth was not known ; it was a large tree when the 
colony was settled in 1680, and continued to flourish until 1864, when it was accidentally 
destroyed bv fire. For generations it had been one of the landmarks of the country, and 
the playground and trysting-place of the young people of the vicinity, sheltering them 
in their^sports. In July, 1816, a party of eighty-five persons celebrated the national 
anniversary under its shade, and dined at a table spread under one of the branches of 
this majestic oak. This tree, the Quercus Vireus, is indigenous to the South Atlantic 
and Gulf States, and is of very common growth. It is an evergreen, and a tree of great 
beauty and symmetry. Its branches are draped with festoons of the beautiful grey moss 
peculiar to that latitude, and the stranger in traveling through the country will frequently 
imagine himself among the historical Druidical forests of Old England. These ancient 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 y 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 

oaks line the avenues, and ornament the lawns of many of the plantations. The wood is 
tough and durable, and is used extensively in ship-building. I need not mention the 
immense forests of pine that grow upon the Pacific coast, as these are familiar to every 
one. 

The wanton and willful destruction of our American forests should be arrested, or else 
the time will come when we shall have to import our timber and lumber from foreign 
countries. 

It is a beautiful custom to commemorate the virtues of distinguished persons by plant- 
ing trees in their memory. 

Wishing you every success in your effort to introduce and encourage the observation 
of the day. I remain, yours very truly, 

N. H. R. Dawson, 
(Then Commissioner of Education.) 

[From Hon. A. S. Draper.] 

Albany. X. Y., April 30, 18SS. 

Dear Sir — I have received your esteemed favor of the 21st instant, asking me to send 
you a few words concerning your " Arbor Day " exercises. 

While man) r duties in this department occupy my time so completely that I feel I can 
say but little that will be useful to you on that occasion, I am free to offe: my congratu- 
lations to you and your people that you have inaugurated these exercises, which bid fair 
to become general throughout the State. I inclose you herewith a copy of a bill which 
has passed the Legislature and is now in the hands of the Governor, in reference to the 
establishment of a uniform da}' to be observed as " Arbor Day." Should this measure 
receive the approval of the Governor, I find that I shall hereafter be in more direct com- 
munication with the schools of the State on the subject of which it treats. 

While the needs of commerce and of business for a number of years have been deplet- 
ing our forests to almost an alarming extent, and have directed public attention to the 
necessity of doing something to overcome this wholesale massacre of the "giants of the 
forest," it is highly gratifying that in many sections of the State, those interested in con- 
ducting our schools have inaugurated the plan, in a greater or less degree, of tree-plant- 
ing in honor of authors, generals, statesmen, and other great men. This will partially 
make up the loss. 

There is something touching and interesting in planting a tree and dedicating it to some 
individual prominent in some feature of our State or Xational history. It is to be hoped 
that this custom may grow with the coming years, until at least around all our school- 
houses there may grow living monuments to remind future generations of the enterprise 
and thoughtfulness of those who live in the present. The tree occupies a proud place 
in nature. It holds it by a Divine right — the right of life, of growth, of progress, of 
decay, and of death. It has these elements of humanity. The tree is the life of nature. 
Without it, is waste and desert ; with it, comfort and beautv. Dignity and grace and 
usefulness are its characteristics. Barren and cheerless the valley or the mountain with- 
out the tree. The landscape robbed of it, would never tempt the brush of the meanest 
painter in the world. 

I hope the occasion may be interesting and profitable to all who contribute to it in any 
way. The pleasure which you feel in your work will grow year by year, as the trees grow 
in strength and beauty, and when your children's children shall gather beneath their 
branches, may they have delightful memories of what others have done, and continue 
themselves in the commendable work. 

I am, yours very respectfully, 

A. S. Draper, 
Superintendent of Public Instruction. 

4. Vocal Quartet.— " Music of the Pine." By Pupils of the High School. 

5. Concert Exercise. — *" The Wayside Inn. — An Apple Tree." By Second Primary 

Department. 

6. Praises of the Oak. By First Primary Department. 

1. The unwedgeable and gnarled oak. 6. Thy guardian oaks, my country, are thy boast. 

2. The old oaken bucket. 7. The monarch oak, the patriarch of trees. 

3. Jove's own tree that holds the woods in awful 8. The oak for grandeur, strength and nobie size, 

sovereignty. excels all trees that in the forest grow. 

4. A goodly oak, whose boughs were mass'd with age. 9. Tall oaks from little acorns grow. 

5. King of the .woods. 10. The glory of the woods. 

CONCERT RECITATION — "THE OAK," BY GEO. HILL. See Index. 



372 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y.— Continued. 

7. Celebrated Trees. By Second Grammar Department. 

8. Vocal Trio. Pupils of High School. 

9. Breezes of the Forest. Second Intermediate Department. 

i. I am the Sugar Maple and a favorite ornamental tree. People love me because I am 
possessed of sweetness. I claim to have made more boys and girls happy than any other 
tree. I have many changes in dress — wearing in spring the softest shade of every color; 
in the summer the purest emerald, and in the autumn the most brilliant yellow. My 
wood is used for furniture, floors, and for furnishing the interior of houses, and after the 
houses are finished, few can warm them better than I. 

2. I am often called Soft Maple, although my real name is Red Maple. I beautify the 
country in spring with early red blossoms, and in autumn my leaves are streaked with 
scarlet. 

3. They call me Bass Wood. I am a fine shade tree, my home a moist, rich soil. My 
fragrant flowers furnish a great amount of excellent honey for the bees at a time when 
most other flowers have disappeared. My timber is soft, light and tough, and not apt 
to split ; good for cabinet work, boxes, broom handles, etc. 

4. I am known as the Black Walnut. I am not ornamental, nor am I a good neighbor, 
for I sometimes poison other trees that live near me. In spite of my bad qualities, I am 
liked because I can be converted into cash at any moment. Some of my brothers have 
sold as high as if 2,000. Those who care for us care for a fortune. 

5. Recognize in me the Hickory. If you want a wood that is good for buggies, ax 
handles, barrel hoops, a wood like iron, call upon me. You will have all the nuts you 
want thrown into the bargain. Once upon a time there was a president of the country 
who had so manv of my qualities that they called him Old Hickory. 

6. I am styled the White Ash. I am a tall tree, and have often been complimented for 
my usefulness. I have been told that I have a graceful top and beautiful pinnate leaves. 
My wood is heavy, hard, strong, coarse-grained, compact, and of a brown color, and is 
much used for cabinet ware, farm implements, and house finishing. 

7. Behold in me the Beech. Upon my smooth, gray bark many a heart history has 
been carved. The poet, Campbell, tells it so beautifully : 

Thrice twenty summers have I stood, 
Since youthful lovers in my shade 
Their vows of truth and rapture paid, 
And, on my trunk's surviving frame, 
Carved man}- a long forgotten name. 

8. I rejoice in the name of the Pine. I am the musician among the trees. I sing only 
when the spirit moves. You may know when that is by the peculiar swaying of my head. 

9. The name White Oak distinguishes me from my neighbors. I am the senior mem- 
ber of our family, and have attained a very great age. Every particle of me is useful, 
even to my ashes. My bark is used for tanning leather. My wood is hard, compact, 
heavy, tough and durable, good for heavy wagons, plows, railroad ties, fence posts, ship 
timber, furniture, and finishing the interior of houses. 

10. I am the celebrated Birch. I am a useful factor in the cause of education, though 
not now so commonly found in the school-room as in former years. Probably you are 
best acquainted with the Canoe Birch, whose white wood you see in spools and shoe pegs. 
It gives up its beautiful white dress without any injury to itself. Let us all tell our friends 
what Longfellow has said of the Birch tree. 

CONCERT RECITATION. " THE BIRCH TREE." See Index. "The Story of Hiawatha." 
10. " Voices of the Trees." First Intermediate Department. 

1. Beheld in me the Hemlock Spruce. I have been called by students in art, botany 
and horticulture the most beautiful coniferous, hardy tree yet known. I grow to a good 
height and acquire a large size. My evergreen leaves have delicate tints, my young 
branches droop gracefully. As a timber tree I do not claim the highest honor. My bark 
is valuable for tanning leather. 

2. I am the Black Spruce. I abound in swamps. I am often used for Christmas trees 
on festive occasions, and boys and girls search me over for a supply of first-class gum. 
I am not responsible, though, for all the gum that goes by my name. Within a few years 
my wood has been largely used to make white paper. 

3. People call me Red Cedar. In summer my leaves are beautiful, but in winter they 
become brown. I am found sparingly in any part of the world, though I am the most 
widely distributed of any tree in the United States. I grow slowly and produce a beau- 
tiful, red, fragrant wood/which is soft and very durable. My wood is now mainly limited 
to the making of lead pencils. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 JT> 

Specimen Programs. - rort Henry, N. Y.— Continued. 

4. My name is Arbor Vitse. I thrive in the swamps of the north and afford shelter to 
wild animals. I am often called White Cedar, and I furnish most of the telegraph poles, 
some fence posts, railway ties and blocks for paving streets. I take a high place as an 
ornamental tree. 

5. I am called the Chestnut. All botanists of the present day agree that I am first 
cousin to the Oak. I am well known for valuable timber and a good crop of edible 
nuts. I am a great friend of the boys and girls. Sometimes naughty boys seek me 
rather than the school-room. Of course no such boys live in Port Henry. 

6. I have received the name of Tulip Tree. I am not only valuable as an ornamental 
shade tree, but I also furnish excellent timber for carriage bodies, furniture and finishing 
houses. I grow to a great size and height and have shining, queer-shaped leaves, and 
large, tulip-shaped blossoms. 

7. You may call me the Balsam Fir. I am a rather small, slender evergreen, found 
in swamps, though often cultivated as an ornament about dwellings. I arrive at my 
prime when about fourteen years old. 

8. I am known as the Willow. I live near the water and my wood is made into the 
strangest things, — artificial limbs, tooth-picks, ball clubs and gunpowder. Some of us 
are called Pussy Willows. 

O, Willow, why forever weep, Mourn on forever, unconsoled, 

As one who mourns an endless wrong? And keep your secret, faithful tree ! 

What hidden woe can lie so deep ? No heart in all the world can hold 
What utter grief can last so long ? A sweeter grace than constancy. 

g. You see before you the Red Elm. I am well known for my durable red wood and 
mucilaginous bark and am often called Slippery Elm. 

10. I am familiar to all as the American Elm. I have been called the Queen of the 
Forest, and stand without a rival at the head of the list of ornamental deciduous-leaved 
trees. I claim this rank on account of rapid growth and the graceful and majestic beauty 
of my drooping branches. 

Let us all recite the praises of the Elm. 

Concert Recitation. 

Hail to the Elm ! the brave old Elm ! Yet he holds them well, and lives to tell 
Our last lone forest tree, His tale of ye olden time ! 

Whose limbs outstand the lightning's brand, Then hail to the Elm ! the green-topp'd Elm! 
For a brave old Elm is he ! And long may his branches wave. 

For fifteen score of fuil-told years. For a relic is he, the gnarl'd old tree, 
He has borne his leafy prime, Of the times of the good and brave. 

11. Vocal Solo — * " Woodman, Spare that Tree." 

12. " Song of the Trees," First Grammar Department. 

13. Chorus— " The Picnic," by the High School." 



The audience then repaired to the grounds outside where trees had been planted, the 
planting complete with the exception of placing of a little more earth around the roots, 
and in the following order and manner, dedicated seven trees to the perpetual honor and 
memory of so many of our beloved and honored American poets. 

The first of the trees approached, was the one chosen to be henceforth associated with 
the name of the patriotic Christian poet, John G. Whittier. 

This dedication service was very appropriate and suggestive, consisting of 

1st. A brief sketch of the poet's life. 

2d. Singing an appropriate chorus. 

3d. Reciting ten gems from the author's works. 

4th. Depositing earth around the tree to symbolize the whole process of planting. 

The same form of exercise was followed at each tree. 

THE WHITE ASH, DEDICATED TO JOHN G. WHITTIER. 

By Second Primary Department. 

GEMS FROM WHITTIER: 

1. Two stanzas form "lanes for an Agricultural Exhibition:" "Give fools their 

gold," See Index. 

2. Introductory to "The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis." See Index. 



,74 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N, Y. — Continued. 

3. Last six lines from " April." See Index. 

4. From " Mogg Megone : " 

The oak upon the windy hill, 

Its dark green burthen upward heaves — 

The hemlock broods above its rill, 

Its cone-like foliage darker still, 

Against the birch's graceful stem, 

And the rough walnut-bough receives 

5. From " A Memorial : " 

Green be those hillside pines forever, 
And green the meadowy lowlands be, 
And green the old memorial beeches, 
Name-carven in the woods of Lee ! 

6. From " Dedication " to " Songs of Labor : : 

Above the fallen groves of green, 
Where youth's enchanted forest stood, 
Dry root and mossed trunk between, 
A sober after-growth is seen, 

As springs the pine where falls the gay-leafed maple 
wood. 

7. Extract from a letter: 



The sun upon its crowded leaves, 
Each colored like a topaz gem ; 
And the tall maple wears with them 
The coronal, which autumn gives, 
The brief, bright sign of ruin near, 
The hectic of a dying year ! 



Still let them greet thy life companions 
Who thither turn their pilgrim feet. 
In every mossy line recalling 
A tender memory sadly sweet. 



Yet birds will sing, and breezes play 
Their leaf-harps in the sombre tree: 
And through the bleak and wintry day 
It keeps its steady green alway, — 
So, even my afterthoughts may have a charm for 
thee. 



The wealth, beauty, fertil it}', and healthfulness of the country largely depend upon the 
conservation of our forests and the planting of trees. My indignation is yearly aroused 
by the needless sacrifice of some noble oak or elm, and especially of the white pine, the 
grandest trees in our woods, which I would not exchange for oriental palms. 

8. From " The Lumbermen : " 



Wildly round our woodland quarters, 

Sad-voiced autumn grieves ; 
Thickly down these swelling waters 

Float his fallen leaves. 

9. From * " The Palm Tree : " 

To him the palm is a gift divine, 

Wherein all uses of man combine, — 
House, and raiment, and food, and wine ! 

10. From " The Frost Spirit : '' 

He comes,— he comes, — the Frost Spirit comes! 
You may trace his footsteps now. 
On the naked woods and the blasted fields and the 
brown hills' withered brow. 



Through the tall and naked timber, 

Column-like and old, 
Gleam the sunsets of November, 

From their skies of gold. 



And, in the hour of his great release, 
His need of the palm shall only cease 

With the shroud wherein he lieth in peace. 



He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where 

their pleasant green came forth, 
And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have 

shaken them down to the earth. 



THE SUGAR MAPLE, DEDICATED TO OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 

By First Primary Department. 
GEMS FROM HOLMES: 

1. Extract from * " Talks on Trees:" — " There is a mother-idea," etc. See Index. 

2. Extract from a letter : 

When we plant a tree, we are doing what we can to make our planet a more wholesome 
and happier dwelling-place for those who come after us, if not for ourselves. As you 
drop the seed, as you plant the sapling, your left hand hardly knows what your right hand 
is doing. But Nature knows, and in due time the Power that sees and works in secret 
will reward you openly. 

3. Extract from letter : 

You have been warned against hiding your talent in a napkin ; but if your talent takes 
the form of a maple-key or an acorn, and your napkin is a shred of the apron that covers 
the lap of the earth, you may hide it there, unblamed ; and when you render in your 
account you will find that your deposit has been drawing compound interest all the time. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



375 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 

4. Extract from a letter : 

I have written rpany verses, but the best poems I have produced are the trees I 
planted on the hill-side which overlooks the broad meadows, scalloped and rounded at 
their edges by loops of the sinuous Housatonic. Nature finds rhymes for them in the 
recurring measures of the seasons. Winter strips them of their ornaments and gives 
them, as it were, in prose translation, and summer reclothes them in all the splendid 
phrases of their leafy language. 

5. Extract from a letter: 

What are these maples and beeches and birches but odes and idyls and madrigals ? 
What are these pines and firs and spruces but holy hymns, too solemn for the many-hued 
raiment of their gay deciduous neighbors ? 

6. Extract from a letter : 

The trees may outlive the memory of more than one of those in whose honor they 
were planted. But if it is something to make two blades of grass grow where only one 
was growing, it is much more to have been the occasion of the planting of an oak which 
shall defy twenty scores of winters, or of an elm which shall canopy with its green 
cloud of foliage half as many generations of mortal immortalities. 

7. From " Spring has Come : " 

The willow's whistling lashes, wrung 

By the wild winds of gusty March, 
With sallow leaflets lightly strung, 

Are swayed by the tufted larch : 

8. From " After a Lecture on Wordsworth i 

Beauty runs virgin in the woods 

Robed in her rustic green, 
And oft a longing thought intrudes. 

As if we might have seen 

9. From the same : 

Take what she gives, her pine's tall stem, 

Her elm with hanging spray ; 
She wears her mountain diadem 

Still in her own proud way. 



The elms have robed their slender spray 

With full-blown flower and embryo leaf; 

Wide o'er the clasping arch of day 
Soars like a cloud their hoary chief. 



Her every finger's every joint 

Ringed with some golden line, 

Poet whom Nature did anoint ! 
Had our wild home been thine. 



Look on the forests' ancient kings, 
The hemlock's towering pride: 

Yon trunk had thrice a hundred rings, 
And fell before it died. 



9. From *" Talks on Trees " in " Autocrat of the Breakfast Table : " "I shall speak of 
trees as we know them," etc. See Index, " Talks on Trees." 

THE WHITE BIRCH, DEDICATED TO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 

By Second Intermediate Department. 

GEMS FROM LOWELL : 

1. From "To a Pine Tree :" " Spite of winter," etc. See Index. 

2. From "The Birch Tree." First two stanzas. See Index. 



3. From " An Indian Summer Reverie : " 

The birch, most shy and ladylike of trees, 

Her poverty, as best she may, retrieves, 

And hints at her foregone gentilities, 

With some saved relics of her wealth of leaves; 



4. From the same : 

The red-oak softer-grained, yields all for lost, 
And, with his crumpled foliage stiff and dry, 
After the first betrayal of the frost, 
Rebuffs the kiss of the relenting sky; 

5. Extract: 

A little of thy steadfastness, 
Rounded with leafy gracefulness, 

Old oak, give me — 
That the world's blast may round me blow. 



The swamp-oak, with his royal purples on, 
Glares red as blood across the sinking sun, 
As one who proudlier to a falling fortune cleaves. 



The chestnuts, lavish of their long-hid gold, 
To the faint summer, beggared now and old, 
Pour back the sunshine hoarded 'neath her favoring 
eye. 



And I 3'ield gently to and fro, 
While my stout-hearted trunk below, 
And firm-set roots unshaken be. 



3/6 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs.-Port Henry r N. Y. — Continued. 
6. From "A Mood:" 



Pine in the distance, patient through sun or rain, 

Meeting with graceful persistence, 

With yielding but rooted resistance. 

The north wind's wrench and strain, 

No memory of past existence, 

Brings thee pain. 



7. From *"The Oak." First Stanza. See Index. 



To me 'tis not chee.r thou art singing : 

There's a sound of the sea, 

O mournful tree. 

In thy boughs forever clinging, 

And the far-off roar 

Of waves on the shore 

A shattered vessel flinging. 



8. From *" Under the Willows :" "I care not how men trace their ancestry," etc., 

four lines, and " I have man}' a life-long leafy friend," etc., six lines. See Index. 

9. From the same: " In June 'tis good to lie beneath a tree," etc., seven lines. See Index. 

10. From *" Under the Old Elm : " " Of our swift passage," etc., seven lines. See Index. 



THE BASSWOOD, DEDICATED TO THE CARY SISTERS. 

By First Intermediate Department. 
GEMS FROM ALICE AND PHOEBE CARV : 



1. From "A Lesson:" 

One autumn time I went into the woods 

When Nature grieves, 
And wails the drying up of the bright floods 

Of summer leaves. 
Then sitting down beneath a naked tree, 

I looked about, — 

2. From the same : 

Woodland, green and gay with dew, 

Here, to-day, I pledge anew 

All the love I gave to you 

When mv heart was young and glad. 

Beeches gray, and solemn firs, 

3. From " The Felled Tree : " 

I slipped my roots round the stony soil 
Like rings on the hand of a bride, 

And my boughs took hold of the summer's smile 
And grew out green and wide. 

4. From " Old Pictures : " 

I see far off the woods whose screen 
Bounded the little world we knew, 
I see the comely apple-trees, 

5. From " Mourning in the Mountains : " 



Saying, in these, if there a lesson be, 

I 11 spy it out. 
And presently the teaching that was meant 

I thought 1 saw, — 
That I, in trial, should patiently consent 

To God's great law. 



Thickets full of bees and burs. 
You were then my school-masters. 
Teaching me as best you could, 
How the evil by the good — 
Thorns by flowers must be construed. 



And lambs, in white rows on the grass, 
Lay down within my shade ; 

So I knew, all homely as I was, 
For a good use I was made. 



In spring a blush with blossoms sweet 
Or, bending with the autumn Breeze, 
Shake down the ripe fruits at our feet. 



And now from every sheltering shrub and vine, 
And thicket wild with many a tangled spray. 

And from the birch and elm and rough-browed pine, 
The birds begin to serenade the day. 



6. From " The Barefoot Boy : " 

I touch the spring-time's tender grass, 

1 find the daisv buds ; 
I feel the shadows deep and cool. 

In the heart of the summer woods ; 

1. From " Faded Leaves : " 

The hills are bright with maples yet ; 

But down the level land 
The beech leaves rustle in the wind 

As dry and brown as sand. 

8. From " A Dream of Home : " 



I see the ripened autumn nuts, 

Like thick hail strew the earth ; 

I catch the fall of the winter snow, 

And the glow of the cheerful hearth . 



The clouds in bars of rusty red 
Along the hill-tops glow, 

And in the still, sharp air, the frost 
Is like a dream of snow. 



woods, with starlight shining through 
My heart to-night is back with you ! 

1 know each beech and maple tree, 
Each climbing brier and shrub I see, — 
Like friends they stand to welcome me. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



377 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 

9. From " Our Homestead : " 

Our old brown homestead reared its walls In the lonesome nights, and heard the limbs 
From the wayside dust aloof, As they creaked against the pane; 

Where the apple-boughs could almost cast And those orchard trees, oh, those orchard trees! 
Their fruit upon its roof; I've seen my little brothers rocked 

And the cherry-tree so near it grew In their tops by the summer breeze- 
That when awake I've lain 

10. From " Field Preaching : " 

I have been out in field and wood, 
Listening to praises sweet and counsel good. 
Such as a little child had understood, 

That, in its tender youth, 
Discerns the simple eloquence of truth. 

THE OAK, DEDICATED TO WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 

By Second Grammar Department. 
GEMS FROM BRYANT- 

1. From *" Forest Hymn : " " The groves were God's first temples," eight lines. See 

Index. 

2. From the same : " Father, thou hast not left thyself without a witness," etc., ten lines. 

3. From *"Among the Trees:" "The wind of May is sweet," etc., six lines. See 

Index. 

4. From the same: " Trees of the forest, and the open plain," etc., ten lines. 

5. From the same: "Nay, doubt not," etc., seven lines. 

6. From *" An Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood." First nine lines. See Index. 

7. From *"The Antiquity of Freedom:" "Here are old trees," etc., twelve lines. 

See Index. 

8. From * " The Planting of the Apple Tree." First stanza. See Index. 

9. From " My Autumn Walk : " 

Beautiful over my pathway The leaves are swept from the branches 
The forest spoils are shed ; But the living buds are there, 

They are spotting the grassy hillocks With folded flower and foliage, 
With purple and gold and red, To sprout in a kinder air. 

* * * * 

10. From " Autumn Woods : " 

O Autumn ! why so soon Ah ! 'twere a lot too blest 

Depart the hues that make thy forests glad. Forever in thy colored shades to stray ; 

Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon, Amid the kisses of the soft south-west 
And leave thee wild and sad ! To rove and dream for aye. 

THE RED MAPLE, DEDICATED TO HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 

By First Grammar Department. 
GEMS FROM LONGFELLOW • 

1. From * " The Hemlock Tree." See Index. 

2. From * " The Masque of Pandora : " 

Guarding the mountains around Filled with the breath of freedom 

Majestic the forests are standing. Each bosom subsiding,-, expanding, 

Bright are their crested helms, Now like the ocean sinks, 

Dark is their armor of leaves ; Now like the ocean upheaves. 

3. From *" Evangeline." Introduction. See Index. 

4. From * " The Spirit of Poetry : " 

There is a quiet spirit in these woods. The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way 

***** 

***** Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in, 

Hence gifted bards. The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees, 
Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades. * * * 

For then there was an eloquent voice in all In many a lazv syllable, repeating 

The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, Their old poetic legends to the wind. 



3/8 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



Specimen Programs.— Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 

5. From " Woods in Winter:" 

O'er the bare upland, and away Where, twisted round the barren oak. 
Through the long reach of desert woods, The summer vine in beauty clung, 

The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And summer winds the stillness broke, 
And gladden these deep solitudes. The crystal icicle is hung. 



6. From " To the Driving Cloud : " 



Back, then, back to thy woods ! 

There as a monarch thou reignest. In autumn the leaves of the maple 

Pave the floors of thy palace-halls with gold, and in summer 

Pine trees waft through its chambers the odorous breath of their branches. 



From " A day of Sunshine : : 



I hear the wind among the trees 
Playing celestial symphonies ; 
I see the branches downward bent. 
Like keys of some great instrument. 



7. From " Autumn : " 



With what a glory comes and goes the year ! Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life 

There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Within the solemn woods of ash deep crimsonea. 

Its mellow richness on the clustered trees, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved. 

And, from a beaker full of richest dyes. Where autumn, like a faint old man, sits down 

Pouring new glory on the autumn woods. By the way side a- weary. 
The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, 

8. From *"An April Day." Third, fourth and fifth stanzas. See Index. 

9. From * " Sunrise on the Hills. " Last stanza. See Index. 

10. From *" Voices of the Night." First two stanzas. See Index. 

THE IRONWOOD, DEDICATED TO RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 

By the High School. 
GEMS FROM EMERSON : 

1. From " Nature : " 

At the gates of the forest, the surprised man of the world is forced to leave his city 
estimates of great and small, wise and foolish. The knapsack of custom falls off his 
back with the first step he takes into these precincts. The tempered light of the woods 
is like a perpetual morning, and is stimulating and heroic. The stems of pines, hem- 
locks and oaks almost gleam like iron on the excited eye. The incommunicable trees 
begin to persuade us to live with them and quit our life of solemn trifles. 

2. From " The Adirondacks : " 

The wood was sovran with centennial trees, — Five-leaved, three-leaved and two-leaved, grew 

Oak, cedar, maple, poplar, beech and fir, thereby. 

Linden and spruce. In strict society Our patron pine was fifteen feet in girth, 

Three conifers, white, pitch and Norway pines, The maple eight, beneath its shapely tower. 

3. From " Farming : " 

Set out a pine-tree, and it dies in the first year, or lives a poor spindle. But nature drops 
a pine cone in Mariposa, and it lives fifteen centuries, grows three or four hundred feet 
high, and thirty in diameter, — grows in a grove of giants, like a colonnade of Thebes. 
Ask the tree how it was done. It did not grow on a ridge, but in a basin, where it found 
deep soil, cold enough and dry enough for the pine; defending itself from the sun by 
growing in groves, and from the wind by the walls of the mountain. The roots that 
shot deepest, and the stems of happiest exposure, drew the nourishment from the rest, 
until the less thrifty perished. 

4. The influence of forests on the healthfulness of the atmosphere demands thoughtful 
attention. Plants imbibe from the air carbonic acid, and other gaseous and volatile pro- 
ducts, exhaled by animals or developed by the natural phenomena of decomposition. 
These the trees, more than the smaller plants, absorb, and instead of them pour into the 
atmosphere pure oxygen, essential to the life of animals. The carbon, the very substance 
of wood, is taken from the carbonic acid thus absorbed. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



379 



Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. —Continued. 

5. From " The Earth » (Nature) : 



See yonder leafless trees against the sky, 
How they diffuse themselves into the air, 
And, ever subdividing, separate 

6. From " My Garden : " 

If I could put my woods in song. 
And tell what 's there enjoyed, 

All men would to my garden throng, 
And leave the cities void. 

In my plot no tulips blow — 

Snow-loving pines and oaks instead; 

7. From " The Method of Nature : " 



Limbs into branches, branches into twigs, 
As if they loved the element, and hasted 
To dissipate their being into it. 



And rank the savage maples grow 

From Spring's faint flush to Autumn red. 

My garden is a foresr ledge, 
Which older forests bound ; 

The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge. 
Then plunge to depths profound. 



There is no revolt in all the kingdoms from the common weal ; no detachment of an 
individual. Every leaf is an exponent of the world. When we behold the landscape in 
a poetic spirit, we do not reckon individuals. Nature knows neither palm, nor oak, but 
only vegetable life, which sprouts into forests, and festoons the globe with a garland of 
grasses and vines. 

8. From " Wood Notes : " 



Low lies the plant to whose creation went 
Sweet influence from every element ; 
Whose living towers the years conspired to build. 
Whose giddy top the morning loved to gild. 



He heard, when in the grove, at intervals. 
With sudden roar the aged pine tree fall, — 
One crash, the death-hymn of the perfect tree, 
Declares the close of its green century. 

9. From " Wood Notes : " 

The Pine tree 

Old as Jove, 

Old as love, 

Who of me 

Tells the pedigree? 

Only the mountains old, 

Only the waters cold, 

Only moon and star, 

My coevals are. 

Ere the first fowl sung, 

10. From "Nature:" 

In the woods a man casts off his years, and at what period soever of life, is always a 
child. In the woods is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God, a decorum 
and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should 
tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I 
feel that nothing can befall me in life — nodisgrace.no calamity, which nature cannot 
repair. 



My relenting boughs among, 

Ere Adam wived, 

Ere Adam lived, 

Ere the duck dived, 

Ere the bees hived, 

Ere the lion roared. 

Ere the eagle soared, 

Light and heat, land and sea, 

Spake unto the oldest tree. 



THE DAISY. 



I'M a pretty little thing, 
Always coming with the spring; 
In the meadows green I'm found, 
Peeping just above the ground; 
And my stalk is covered flat 
With a white and yellow hat. 



Little lady, when you pass 
Lightly o'er the tender grass, 
Skip about, but do not tread 
On my meek and lowly head; 
For I always seem to say, 
" Surely winter 's gone away." 



My fugitive years are all hasting away, 
And I must ere long be as lowly as they; 
With a turf on my breast and a stone at my head, 
Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead. 



Cowter. 



6^Fbor ©a\> Jvjusic. 



ARBOR DAY. 

Words by E. F. Stearns. Music by G. A. Veazie, Jr. 



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3§2 



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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



187 




HYMN OF PRAISE. 



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I'll sing thy truth and mer - cy, Lord ! I'll sing the 



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BLUE BIRD. 



1. Blue-bird, joy - ous blue - bird, 

2. Blue-bird, love - ly blue - bird, 



BE 



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Car - ol - ing so clear ! 
Did you long for home, 




From " The Coda," No. 118, by Ginn & Co., Boston. t6 pagfes; price, 3 cents. By permission. 

Copyright, 1888. 



388 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



BLUE BIRD -Continued, 
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Tell me where you've wandered, 
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er mount and foam? 






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Flash'd my wing, Till the spring Soft - ly called me 
FilPd my song All day long ! Fond - ly back I 



here.' 
roam. 



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3 Blue-bird, gentle blue-bird, 
Feared you any ill, 
Though the nightfall met you, 
Gloomiue vale and hill? 



« Ah, the Master serving, 
With a trust unswerving 

Where he led, on I sped, 
For he careth stilL" 



From " The Coda," No. 118, by Ginn & Co., Boston. 16 pages; price, 3 cents. By permission. 

Copyright, 1888. 






ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



389 



IF EVER I SEE. 



Childhood Songs. 







n 



1. If ev - er I see, On bush or tree, Young birds in a pret - ty nest, 

2. My moth-er, I know, Would sor - row so, Should I be sto - len a - way': 



..ay : 
3. And when they can fly, In the bright blue sky They'll war- ble a song to me; 

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I must not, in my play, Steal the birds a - way, To grieve their moth-er's breast. 
So I'll speak to the birds In my soft - est words, Nor hurt them in my play. 
And then if I'm sad, It will make me so glad, To think they are hap -py and free. 




From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 4.' 



By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 



PIAJfO 



A SPRING SONG. 



English. 



^fl 


Allegretto. 








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The 




From "The Coda, No. 82, Ginn & Co., Boston. 4 pages; price 1 cent. By permission. Copyright, 1887. 



39° 



ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 





A SPRING SONG - Continued. 


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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



391 



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A SPRING SONG - Continued. 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL, 



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A SPRING SONG -Continued. 



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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



393 



Allegretto. 



WELCOME TO THE FOREST. 



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1. When sum- mer sun op - press - es, And burns -with rag - hog 

2. To taste the grate - ful shad - ows. Each nod - ding bough doth 



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From "The Coda," No. nS, by Ginn & Co., Boston. 16 pajes; price, 3 cents. By permission. 

Copyright, 1 83. 



WE GREET THEE, MERRY SPRING TIME. 



A llegro. 



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Arr. Geo. F. Wilson. 

J . L_ !=^J 



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1. We greet thee,mer-ry Spring-time, Who com 'st with footsteps gay, 

2. How bright the sun-light,beam-ing,From yon- der sky doth flow, 



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i94 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



WE GREET THEE MERRY SPRING TIME - Continued- 


Laugh-ing, thro' the 

Warmth and glo - ry 

n 


Lf f 

mead- ows 
stream-in g 


To 

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ieck the Queen of 
- on our world be 


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Wel-come, mer - ry Spring - time, The glo - ry of the year, 
On - ly for our pleas - ure, Ten thous-and bios- soms blow, 



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From "The Coda," No. n8, by Ginn & Co.. Boston. 16 pages; price, 3 cents. By permission 

Copyright, 18S8. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



395 



WHAT THE LITTLE THINGS SAID. 

O. B. Brown. 



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1. "I'll hie me down to yon-der bank," A lit - tie rain-drop said, "And 

2. "I may not lin-ger," said the brook,"But rip- pie on my way, And 



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try to cheer that lone - ly flow'r, And cool its moss - y bed : Per - 
help the rills and riv - ers all To make the o-cean spray ;" "And 



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haps the breeze will chide me, Be - cause I am so small ; But, 
I must haste to la - bor," Re - plied the bus - y bee, " The 



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sure - ly, I must do my best, For God has work for all/ 
Sum-mer days are long and bright,And God has work for me.' 



If little things that God has made 

Are useful in their kind, 
Oh ! let us learn a simple truth, 

And bear it in our mind : 
That every child can praise Him, 

However weak and small ; 
Let each with joy remember this, — 

The Lord has work for nSl. 



From " The Coda," No. 8, Ginn & Co., Boston. 4 pages ; price, 2 cents. By permission. 

Copyrighted, 1887. 



; 9 6 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



ROAMING. 



Allegretto. 



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1. In mer - ry mood here roam - ing The dai - sied green up 

2. The brook - let glan - ces coy - ly, As light it bounds a - 



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SOFT AND SWEET THE ZEPHYRS SIGH. 
Leggiero. 



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1. Soft and sweet the zeph- yrs sigh, zeph-yrs sigh, zeph - yrs sigh; 

2. Glad I hear the chirp-ing song, chirp-ing song, chirp - ing song 



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From " The Coda," No. n8, Ginn & Co., Boston. 16 pages; price, 3 cents. By permission. 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



)97 



SOFT AND SWEET THE ZEPHYRS SIGH -Continued. 



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'Neath a calm and pla - cid sky, 'Neath a pla - cid sky ; 
Raised by spring-birds' hap - py throng,Spring-birds' hap- py throng ; 



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All our sen - ses now re - gal - ing, Sweet - est fra - grance 
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round ex - hal - ing, All a - long the paths we tread, 
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From " The Coda," No. n8, Gran & Co., Boston. 16 pages ; price, 3 cents. By permission. 



!93 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



40I 



GAY LITTLE DANDELION. 



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ghts up the meads, Swings on her slender foot 

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2. Cold lie the daisy banks clad but in green, Where in the May's agone bright hues were seen; 


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Wild pinks are slumbering, violets de - lay, True lit - tie Dan-de-lion greet-eth the way. 




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Un- der the flee - cy tent, care-less of cold,Blithelit-tle Dan-de-lion count-ethher gold. 



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Gay lit-tle Dan-de-lion, lights up themeads.Swingsonher slen-der foot, tell-eth her beads. 




Gay lit-tle Dan-de-lion, lights up themeads.Swingsonher slen-der foot, tell-eth her beads. 



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Copyright, 1890, by Bigelow & Main. Used by permission. 
26 



4-02 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



BEAUTIFUL SPRING TIME. 



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Expression. \* \ ^ 

1 . Beau - ti - ful Spring-time ! bright, blooming ro - ses, When hope with pleas - ure 

2. Beau - ti - ful Spring-time ! sea - son de - part - ed, When birds were sing - ing 







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Dreams of the heart when no sor- row was near, Oh ! hap - py days ! we can nev - er for 
Oh! how those mo-ments have fad-ed a - way! Oh ! blissful hours ! Ave shall ev - er re ■ 



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get thee, Life was too sweet, ev-'ry moment was dear! We wandered at even-ing o'er 
mem - ber; Sweet was our young life — too sweet to de - cay! We hear the bells chim-ing, when 




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step to the mur-mur - ing foun-tain, 'Twas long, long a - go, but it seems a sweet 
pin - ions with ra - di - ant seem-ing, He leads us at last to the beau - ti - ful 

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From " Franklin Square Song Collection, No. 2." By courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers 




Lively. 



BLOSSOM TIME. 



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Mary E. Dodge 



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1. There's a wedding in the orchard, dear, I know it by the flowers ; They're wreathed on ev'ry 

2. While whispers rang a - mong the boughs of prom - is - es and praise, And play - ful, lov - ing 

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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



BLOSSOM TIME -Continued. 



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bough and branch, or falling down in showers. The air is in a mist, I think, and scarce knows which to 
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count-less wedding jew -els shine, and gold -en gifts of grace; I 
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know that ho - ly 



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wealth of sun in an - y sha-dy place, 
things were asked, and holy love re - plied. 



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maidens clad in white, The clasping of a thousand hands in ten-der-est de - light. 
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From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 1." By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper <k Brother*. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



417 



THE BRAVE OLD OAK. 




Mastoso. - «, j— 

1. A song for the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath ruled in the greenwood long, Here's 

2. He saw the rare times, when the Christmas chimes Were a mer - ry sound to hear, And the 




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health and re-nown to his broad green crown, And his fif - ty arms so strong, 
squire's wide hall, and the cot - tage small, Were full] of Christmas cheer. 



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There is fear in his frown when the sun goes down, And the fire in the west fades out; And he 
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show-eth his might on a wild midnight, When the storms through his branches shout. Then 
gone, they are dead, in the church-yard laid, But the brave tree, he still re - mains. Then 



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sing to the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath stood in his pride so long; And 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE BRAVE OLD OAK - Continued. 




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From " FrankJin Square Song Collection. No. 2." 



By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper A Brothers. 



MONARCH OF THE WOODS. 




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1. Behold the monarch of the woods! The mighty old 

2. How oft the monarch of the woods, Upon a summ 




storm, On land or roll-ing sea; He waves his branches deck'd with green, In summer's golden 
sport, And 'neath its shadow play; From youth to manhood they spring up, And old age comes at 



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last, ' Then green grass waves up - on their graves, And all life's dreams are past! Yet 



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ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 



419 



MONARCH OF THE WOODS - Continued 

a tempo con spirito. 






Ufpf 

Time, the conqueror of all, He bold - ly doth de - fy, For green and hearty will he 
stronger grows the mighty tree, In hale and heart - y prime, And stands the monarch of the 

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Green and heart - y, green and heart - y, 
Stands the mon - arch of the woods, the 



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heart - y will he stand, When a - ges have gone by, When a 
mon-arch of the woods, De - fy - ing age and time, De - fy 






From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 5." 



ges have gone by. 
ing age and time. 

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MONTH OF APPLE BLOSSOM. 



Donizetti. 
Helen Martin. 




1. Ra-di- ant month of beau-ty, Blossoming to the June, Month when e'en joy is du - ty, 

2. Valleys that laugh in brightness, Zephyrs that fan the flowers, Swaying the buds in lightness, 



420 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



MONTH OF APPLE BLOSSOM -Continued. 




Days goby so soon! Hap-py the song-bird's trill -ing, Golden the broom-flower burns; 

Thro' all the leafy bowers, — Maples the hill -side flushing, Yellow of chestnut - bloom, 




Chorus. 




\S k V I U 

Welcome the new life thrill - ing Hearts when Spring returns! Month of the ap - pie blos-som. 

Red-buds em-pur-pled blushing : Gone the Winter's gloom. Month of the ap - pie bios - som, 

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Vi-ol andharpand flute-note, Swell out the sweet re - frain: " Month of the ap - pie blossom, 

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May-ing we go a - gain! Month of the ap- pie blossom, Maying we go a - gain!" 



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By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



42 1 



FRAGRANT AIR. 



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1. Fragrant air ev-'rywhere, Blue the sky a-bove; Oh, how sweet on light feet 

2. Wood so wide, verdant pride, Thou my dearest home ; Song and sound, all around, 

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Round about to rove. Zephyrs play with balmy flow-ers, And how charming - ly 
Call me forth to roam. And in joy and ad -mi - ra-tion, Thus a - long I rove, 

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Mer - ry birds in ver - dant bowers Tune their mel - o - dy. La, la, la, la, 

Prais - ing loud the Lord's ere- a- tion, And His boundless love. La, la, la, la, 

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THE TIME OF THE SINGING OF BIRDS. 




George Barker. 



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The time of the sing-ing of birds is come, The trees 
A - way in wood- lands wide and deep The shad 
But not o'er meadow and wood a- lone Doth their spell 



are robed in green ; The 
owy grass bends low, Be-fore 
of beau-ty steal ; There are 



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THE TIME OF THE SINGING OF BIRDS -Continued. 







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flow'rs un - fold theirtints of gold, And the fair pink maybe seen; O'er all the land doth a 

winds that creep where daisies sleep, And the dainty wind-flo w'rs blow. And deep in the heart of the 

hu - man hearts whose bit- ter smarts Its smile hath powerto heal. The time of the singing of 




prom - ise lie, The her - aid of Sum-mer's reign ; 
dim old woods The sun - beams fair have strayed ; 
birds is come, And we pause in our wea - ry way, 



At the gold - en beat of her 
Like shafts of light they have 
While the sad hearts thrill and the 



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fly - ing feet The old Earth smiles a - gain. 
pierced the night By the arch - ing bran - ches made, 
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From " Franklin Square Sode Collection. No. 5." 



By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper A Brother*. 



SONG OF THE MAPLE. 



Lively. 



R. M. Streetkr. 
Mrs. E. Fitzgerald. 






1. Ma - pie, from the leafy wild wood, Where thine early years have sped ; Emblem of our happy childhood, 

2. Infant leaves, unclasp your fingers, Sunshine, kiss their tender palms; Ev'ningwind,as twilight lingers, 

3. On the early-dawning morrow, In the garden-world of care, We must meet the joy and sorrow 




To the past forever fled ; Here, with radiant Spring adorning " Banks and braes " with buds and flow'rs, 
With our ma - pie in thine arms, S way and sing: "Odews of e-ven, Daily as ye sink to rest, 
That a -wait our coming there. O brave hearts! when restful e - ven Finds our dai - ly du - ty o'er, 

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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



4 2 . 



SONG OF THE MAPLE -Continued 




w ^- Chorut. . . 



We, in life's hope-lighted morning, Leave thee to the sun and showers. Maple, from the happy wildwood. 
May ye see thatnearer heaven, Grows the nestling on my breast." Maple,fromthehappywildwood, 
May it find us near-er Heaven Than we were the day be - fore. Maple, from the happy wildwood, 

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Where thine early years have sped , Emblem of our happy childhood, To the past for - ev - er fled. 




From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 3." 



By Courtesy of Messrs. Harptr & Brothers. 



LOVELY MAY. 



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1. Love - ly May, love - ly May, Decks the world with blos-soms gay; "Come ye all, 

2. Light - ly pass, light - ly pass, Thro' the nod - ding mead - ow grass, Woodlands bright, 

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rnie ye all," 1 hus the flow -ers call. Sparkles now the sun - ny dale, Fragrant is the 



woodlands bright, Wake from winter's night. 



ny dale, Fragrant 
Where the sil-ver brooklet flows. Rippling soft - ly 




flow - ery vale ; Song of 
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Lightly row ! Lightly row ! 
O'er the glassy waves we go ; 
Smoothly glide ! Smoothly glide ! 
On the silent tide. 
Let the winds and waters be 
Mingled with our melody ; 
Sing and float ! Sing and float ! 
In our little boat. 

From '-'- Franklin Square Song Collection, i 



Far away ! Far away ! 
Echo in the rocks at play, 
Calleth not, Calleth not, 
To this lonely spot. 
Only with the sea-bird's note, 
Shall our dying music float ! 
Lightly row ! Lightly row ! 
Echo's voice is low. 



Lightly row ! Lightly row ! 
O'er the glassy waves we go; 
Smoothly glide ! Smoothly glide 
On the silent tide. 
Let the winds and waters be 
Mingled with our melody; 
Sing and float ! Sing and float j 
In our little boat. 

By Courtesy, of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 



424 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SONG OF ARBOR DAY. 




s. j. i'ettings. 
Jesse Hutchinsok. 



1. We have come with joyful greeting, songs of gladness, voi - ces gay, Teachers, friends and happy 

2. Gen - tie winds will murmur softly, zephyrs float on noiseless wing; 'Mid its boughs shall thrush and 

3. Plant we then throughout our borders, o'er our lands so fair and wide, Treasures from the leafy 






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children, all to welcome Arbor day. Here we plant the tree, whose branches warmed by breath of summer 

robin build their nests and sweetly sing. 'Neath its shelt'ring arms shall childhood, weary of the noontide 

for - est, vale and hill and mountain side. Rooted deep, oh, let them flourish ! sturdy giants may they 

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Nourished by soft dews and showers, soon shall wave in leafy sprays. Songs 
In its cool, invit - ing shadow find a pleasant, safe re - treat. Songs 

Emblems of the cause we cherish, — ed-u-cation broad and free ! Songs 



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of gladness 
of gladness 



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sing we gai - ly, Thus we wel - come Arbor Day. 



And as year by year we gather, glad to 



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put our tasks a - way, May the spring-time ever shower blessings on each Ar-bor Day! 




From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 3." 



By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brother;., 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



425 



WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. 



Henry Russell. 
George P. Morris. 




1. Wood - man, spare that treef 

2. That old fa - mil - iar tree, 

3. When but an i - die boy, 

4. My heart-strings round thee cling, 



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Touch not a sin - gle bough ; 
Its glo - ry and re - nown 
I sought its grateful shade ; 
Close as thy bark, old friend ! 



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In youth it shel - tered 
Are spread o'er land and 
In all their gush - ing 
Here shall the wild - bird 

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And would'st thou hew it down? Woodman, for - bear thy 

Here, too, my sis - ters played; My moth - er kissed me 

And still thy branches' bend. Old tree, the storm thou'lt brave, 

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placed it near his cot, There, woodman, let it stand, 
not its earth-bound ties; Oh! spare that a - ged oak, 
fa - ther pressed my hand, For - give this fool - ish tear, 
woodman, leave the spot; While I've a hand to save, 



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From" Franklin Square Soug Collection. No. 3." 



By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothen 



POLISH MAY SONG. 



Polish Air. 




M5v 1= Viprp trip, wnrld rp . ini - ces : Earth Duts on her smiles to greet her: 



May is here, the world re - joi - ces ; Earth puts on her smiles to greet 
Birds through ev - 'ry thick - et call - ing, Wake the woods to sounds of glad - ness : 
Earth to heav'n lifts up her voi - ces; Sky, and field, and wood, and riv - er: 



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426 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



POLISH MAY SONG - Continued. 







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Grove and field lift up their voi - ces ; Leaf and flow'r come forth to meet 

Hark ! the long - drawn notes are fall - ing, Sad, but pleas - ant in their sad - ness 

With their heart our heart re - joi - ces ; For His gifts we praise the Giv - er. 

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Hap - py May, blithesome May ! Win - ter's reign has pass'd 



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from " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 1. 



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By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brother*. 



E. R. SILL. 

Gently. 



THE CUCKOO. 




Arranged. 



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As on - ward through the woods you go, 

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427 



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THE CUCKOO -Continued. 

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soft and low, Cuck - 00, cuck - 00, cuck - 00, cuck - 00, cuck - 00. 

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2 At morn the forest dells are bright, 

With slanted beams of gold, 
At eve the dim and dewy air 

The growing shades enfold . 
But moru and eve, repeated slow, 
The voice is calling, soft and low, 
Cuckoo, etc. 

3 The pine is fragrant under foot, 

And sweet the spicy air, 
But still that distant voice allures 

To seek it everywhere ; 
Now louder, then far off and low, 
What means it, ever calling so, 
Cuckoo, etc. 



4 Still distant and unseen, the voice, 

Some happy spirit seems, 
That beckons us to fairy-land, 

Whose realms we see in dreams, 
Where never mortal steps may go, 
Unless it leads them, calling so, 
Cuckoo, etc. 

5 It is the spirit of the woods, 

That sings, in happy rest, 
Such quiet and contented notes, 

As suit the forest best ; 
Its peaceful shades no sound should know, 
But that sweet song so soft and low, 
Cuckoo, etc. 



Happy Voices " by permission of Taintor Bros., & Co. 



THE OLD MOUNTAIN TREE. 



JAMES G. CLARK. 



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2. We are pil-grims 

3. Oh 1 the time went 


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by the bounding deep, Where the hills in glo • 

in a stran - ger land, And the joys of youth 

like a tale that's told In a land of song 

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stood ; And the moss-grown graves where our fathers sleep,'Neath the boughs of the waving 
passed ; Kind friends are gone, but the old tree stands, Still unharm'd by the warring 
mirth, And many a form in the church-yard cold, Finds a rest from the cares of 

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wood; We re-mem-ber yet with a fond re-gret For the rock and the flow'ry 
blast ; Oh, the lark may sing in the clouds of spring, And the swan on the sil - ver 
earth ; And for many a day when we're far a - way, O'er the waves of the western 

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428 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE OLD MOUNTAIN TREE- Continued. 




lea, .... Where we once used to play thro' the long, long day In the 

sea,. . . . But we mourn for the shade where the wild bird made Her . . 

sea, There the heart will pine, and . . vain - ly pray For a 

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From "Song Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co. 







OH, THE SPORTS OF CHILDHOOD; OR, SWINGING 
'NEATH THE OLD APPLE TREE. 



Words and Music by 






O. R. BARROWS. 



1. Oh, the sports of child - hood ! Roam - ing through the wild - wood, 

2. Sway - ing in the sun - beams, Float - ing in the shad - ows, 

3. Oh, the sports of child - hood 1 Roam - ing through the wild - wood, 



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Running o'er the meadows, Hap - py and free ; But my heart's a - beat - ing 
Sail - ing on the breez - es, Hap - py and free ; Chas - ing all our sad - ness 
Running o'er the meadows, Hap - py and free ; But my heart's a - beat - ing 



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For the old time greeting, Swinging 'neath the old apple - tree. Swinging, swinging, 
Shouting in our gladness, Swinging, &c. 
For the old time greeting, Swinging, &c. 



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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



429 



OH, THE SPORTS OF CHILDHOOD; OR, SWINGING 'NEATH THE OLD 
APPLE TREE - Continued. 



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Swinging, swinging, swinging, swinging, Swinging 'neath the old ap- pie -tree. 



Copyright 1874, by Bigelow & Maiu, and used by permission. 



BEAUTIFUL ARE THE MOUNTAINS. 

W. D. GALLAHER-. 

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1. Beau-ti - ful are the mount - ains That tell of the bless - ed 

2. Beau-ti - ful in the val - leys, In spring-time they si - lent 

3. Val - leys sa - lute the moun - tains, And mountains look down and 

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spring, They bathe in the gush 

grow, The love - ly, the mod 

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Sweet are the vio - lets' 
Up - ward their fra - grant 
Day - time and night grow 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



BEAUTIFUL ARE THE MOUNTAINS - Continued. 



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Whose bright eyes to -ward them turn, 

They turn and smile at the sky, 

All join the tra - la and say : 



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And dance vis - a - 

And fill - ing the 

We'll sing the sweet 



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vis* to the man - drake, 

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prais-es of Na - ture, 



And smile to the bow - ing 
As zeph - yrs go whisp-'ring 
For spring-time has come so 



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From 



* Vee-zah-vee. 
■ Sons Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., New York. 



THE VIOLET. 



JAMIE BEATTY. 



E. L. DANFOHTH. 
I. 




j Down in a green and sha - dy bed A mod - est vio - let grew, 

\ Its- stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from (Omit.) view; 

was a flower so fair, so frail, Yet not a per - son knew 

Where in its grass - y rest - ing-place, The hum - ble vio - let (Omit.) grew ; 



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And yet it was a love - ly flower, Its col - or rich 
But God a - lone, who gave it life, Looked down with ten 



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To see that lit - tie flow - 'ret pure, So sweet - ly 
From "Song Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., New York. 



hid - ing there, 
bloom -ing there. 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



431 



WE LIFT OUR TUNEFUL VOICES. 

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1. We lift our tune - f ul voic - es now, In fresh, me - lo 

2. And ye who join the swell-ing lay, Sweet mel - o - dy em - ploy ; 



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While youth-ful eyes with pleasure glow, To see our hap - py throng. 
D. S. Let waves of cheer- f ul praises flow, From pure hearts un - de - filed. 
To cheer us on our up - ward way, And prais - es blend with joy. 
D. 6. Let smiles, which all our fac - es wear, Re - ward your work of love. 



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And, as we send our greet-ing, to The breez - es soft and mild ; 
Our teachers kind, whose constant care We hon - or and ap - prove ; 



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THROUGH THE LOVELY VALE.* 



H. S. PERKINS. 



H. S. PERKINS. 




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2. Our 

3. No 



wan 

spir 
spot 

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by the 



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* Note. — For a concert piece, the effect will be pleasing for a quartette to echo the last two lines of each verse 
from an adjacent room, softly. (The appogiaturas, or small notes, may be omitted). 

From " Song Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., New York. 



432 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



:h 



THROUGH THE LOVELY VALE - Continued. 

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soft, gen - tie zeph - yrs our spir - its ex - hale ; . . All 
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na - ture with smiles, like the bright, dis - tant star, Fills the 

moon's gen - tie rays light our path - way a - long, As we 

loved one be - side us to join in the song, Oh, the 



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heart full of love 
ram - ble to - geth 
heart thrills de - light 



as we wan - der a - far, .... The 
er with joy and with song, . . We 
as we're stroll - ing a - long, . . The 



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heart thrills de - light as we're stroll - ing 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



433 



SPRING. 



J. H. KISSINGER. 





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From " Song Prizes" by per. of Publisher, The W„ W. Whitney Co., Toledo, O. 
28 



434 



ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



SPRING. Concluded 




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right spring is danc - ing in our midst, To make our hearts feel glad. 



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A glad re -spouse from all the birds, Nest build- ing iu the brake. 



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Tell me, tell me, lit-tle bird of blue. 
Then you'll find us washing out our clothes 
Tell me, tell me 'fore you're on the wing. 
Sure-ly, sure-ly, I can nev - ertell. 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



435 



IN THE EARLY SPRING-TIME. 



MYERS. 



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436 



ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 



BEAUTIFUL MAY. 



M. 



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1. Up thro' the woodpath with bird songs, Sweet May has come smiling and gay; 



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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



437 



BEAUTIFUL MAY. Concluded. 



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"75*- 



From " Song Prize/' by per. of Publisher, The W. W. Whitney Co., Toledo, O. 



(general Index. 



PAGE. 

Acorn and chestnut 207 

Acorn, Little Mrs. M. H. Huntington So 

Acorn, The pebble and the Mrs. Gould 15 

Acrostic, Arbor day E. C. Delano 307 

Age of trees 1 yo 

Al Fresco Lowell 232 

All things beautiful C. F. Alexander 184 

All yellow 22 

Almanac, Our Aldrich 33 

Among the trees Bryant 284 

Antiquity of freedom Bryant 282 

Anxious leaf, the Beecher 52 

Apple tree grows, How an 335 

Apple tree, Planting of the Bryant 19 

Apple tree, Under the Elizabeth A. Allen 108 

April Shakspeare 144 

April Jessie McDermott 157 

April Whittier 239 

April and May Celia Thaxter 120 

April day, An Longfellow 149 

Arbor day S. S. Short 191 

Arbor day 210 

Arbor day 301 

Arbor day Warren Higley 306 

Arbor day 311 

Arbor day 323 

Arbor day 351 

Arbor day acrostic E. C. Delano 307 

Arbor day and the children E. E. Higbee 323 

Arbor day, For George Adams 204 

Arbor day, Hail ! Lizzie D. Roosa 202 

Arbor day, how observed in various States 329 

Arbor day invocation Emma S. Thomas . . 348 

Arbor day invocation Parr Harlow 349 

Arbor day, its educating influence B. G. Northrop 300 

Arbor day march Ellen Beauchamp 352 

Arbor day music (See " Index to Music ") 381 



440 GENERAL INDEX. 



I'AGE. 

Arbor day ode Parr Harlow 205 

Arbor day poem Anna R. Pride 27 

Arbor day poem Lillian E. Knapp 80 

Arbor da}', The use of 296 

Arbor day tribute , Tared Barhite 347 

Arbutus Elaine Goodale 9 

Arbutus Anne Hail 14S 

Arbutus 2S9 

Arbutus, The trailing Rose Tern* Cooke S4 

Arbutus, The trailing Whittier 216 

Arbutus, Trailing — The May flower Goodwin 261 

Aspen 302 

Aspen, Legend of the 163 

Autumn leaves T. W. Higginson 181 

Autumn leaves, The 59 

Autumn voices 16 

Awakening Year, The Read 45 

Beautiful, All things C. F. Alexander ... 184 

Beautiful things 62 

Beautiful trees A. L. R 311 

Beech, The purple 1S7 

Beech tree's petition, The Campbell 200 

Belated Whittier 368 

Best trees and vines, The W. J. Milne 347 

Bible, Trees of the W. H. Groser 24S 

Birch tree, The Mrs. A. V. McMullen 209 

Birch tree, The Lowell 304 

Bird, If I were a 310 

Bird songs . Kathie Moore 265 

Bird trades 172 

Birds, A flock of Annie Chase : 182 

Birds and the children, The E. T. Sullivan 167 

Birds choose the maple Susan F. Cooper 206 

Birds in Summer ' Mrs. Hemans 100 

Birds' nests 277 

Birds, The return of the Bryant 259 

Bluebell, The 79 

Blossoms, Elm 113 

Blossoms, Orchard Mrs. Hemans 258 

Blossoms, Peach Mrs. Gould 103 

Blossoms, Wild thorn Julian S. Cutler 2S9 

Blue bird, The.. C. F. Gerry 77 

Blue bird, The John Burroughs 297 

Blue bird's song, The .• 71 

Blushing maple tree, The 236 

Boat song Scott 1S9 

Bobolink, The 96 

Bolehill trees , Montgomery 2S7 



GENERAL INDEX. 44 Y 



PAGE. 

Boy that stole apples, The 253 

Breathings of Spring Mrs. Hemans 15S 

Briar-bloom Elizabeth A. Allen 2S2 

Bring flowers Mrs. Hemans 190 

Brown thrush, The Lucy Larcom 60 

Building of the ship, The Longfellow 257 

Buttercup, A K. C S9 

By summer woods 162 

California's giant trees 272 

Calling them up George Cooper 2S3 

Cherry ripe Kate L. Brown 106 

Chicago, The historic tree of 217 

Child and tree E. A. Holbrook 161 

Children in the wood, The Thomas Percy 30S 

Children's Arbor day march E. A. Holbrook 34S 

Children's praise song W. B. Downer 352 

Children, The Longfellow 19S 

Child to a rose, A 163 

Clematis Dora Read Goodale 269 

Chorus of the flowers Lucy Wheelock 174 

Choosing a State Tree 123 

Class tree, The Em ma S. Thomas 351 

Come to the forest 74 

Concert, Mr. Spring's ■ • . 3S1 

Consecration, Song of E. A. Holbrook 299 

Convention of Michigan trees, A 3*3 

Corn, A grain of 143 

Corn, Trees of 9 1 

Cottonwood trees, 'Neath the Mrs. B. C. Rude 277 

Counsel, The old man's Bryant 256 

Country, An invitation to the Bryant 237 

Cunning old crow, The 175 

Cutting off the forests Warren Higley 3°5 

Daffy-down-dilly 66 

Daffy-down-dilly, Ready for duty 146 

Daisies, Dance of the Sarah M. B. Piatt 2S0 

Daisy fair — Motion song Annie Chase 57 

Daisy, The Mrs. B. C. Rude 264 

Daisy, The 379 

Daisy, To a mountain Burns 121 

Dandelion, Dear Laura D. Nichols 107 

Dandelion, The "6 

Dandelion, The young Mrs. Craik 155 

Dandelion, To the Lowell 244 

Dear elm, it is of thee • 3 22 

Dedication, Song of Ellen Beauchamp 34S 

Destruction of the forests 3 DI 



442 GENERAL INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Discontent Sara O. Jevvett 141 

Discourse on trees, A Beecher 324 

Dreamer and reaper, The Rev. J. H. Ecob 12 

Dream of summer, A Whittier 236 

Dryads, The meeting of the Holmes ... 17 

Early Spring Thomson i5r 

Echo L. V. Hall 87 

Effects of Spring Wilson 183 

Elm blossoms. 113 

Elm, The H. H. B 208 

Elm tree, My Rebecca D. Rickoff 49, 

Elm, Under the old Lowell 238 

Elm, Under the Washington Holmes 140 

Elm versus apple . May Riley Smith 162 

Evergreen, The unfading 46 

Eve's lamentation Milton 105. 

Fair tree Lady Winchelsea 279 

Fallen monarch, The I . H. Bromley 259 

Fall fashions 74 

Fall song 35 

i/ Famous and curious trees 27s 

Fern, The petrified Mary L. B. Branch 201 

Fields in May, The W. Allingham 119 

First flowers, The Whittier 234 

Fir tree, The Luella Clark 230 

Flock of birds, A Annie Chase 182 

Flower mission, The = 7 

Flower of liberty Holmes 43 

Flower of the desert, The Mrs. Hemans 279 

Flower, The Tennyson 172 

Flower, The national Lucy Larcom 157 

Flowers ' . Longfellow 155 

Flowers and foliage 140 

Flowers, Chorus of the Lucy Wheelock 174 

Flowers, Hymn to the Horace Smith 176 

Flowers of the May 233 

Flowers, Old-fashioned Ethel Lynn 180 

Flowers, The marriage of the S. H. M. Byers 142 

Flowers, The race of the , 47 

Flowers, The use of Mary Howitt 63 

Foolish little robin 86 

Foreign lands 40 

Forest flowers Frankenstein 215 

Forest hymn, A Bryant 4 

Forest, In a Southey 65 

Forest scene, A Edith May 247 

Forests, Cutting off the Warren Higley 30$ 



GENERAL INDEX. ^, * 



PAGE. 

Forests, Destruction of the 301 

Forest silence 306 

Forest song, A W. H. Venable 41 

Forest trees, Life's , Ella Wheeler Wilcox 85 

Forest trees, The Eliza Cook 3 

Forest, The storm in the Mrs. Gould 104. 

Forest, Thoughts on the 10 

Forest, Voices of the Longfellow 2S9 

Forget-me-not 320 

Forgiveness J. Edmondston 130 

Forward, march! 55 

Four sisters, The. . . 32 

Freedom, Antiquity of Bryant 282 

Freedom's flower Marian Douglas 264 

Funeral tree of the Sokokis, The Whittier 139 

Garden on the sands, The 112 

Gingerbread tree, The Harriet P. Spofford 195 

Gladness of nature, The Bryant 147 

God provideth for the morrow 40 

God's love ... 74 

God's wisdom and power 104 — ~" 

Golden rod 47 

Golden rod Elaine Goodale 265 

Golden rod, Lady Carrie W. Bronson 139 

Golden rod, The Eva J. Beede 51 

Golden rod, The 115 

Golden rod, The Hopestill Goodwin 252 

Good-bye, Winter C. S. Stone 177 

Grain of corn, A 143 

Grass Edgar Fawcett 6 

Grass and flowers, A soul in Lowell 1 7S 

Grass, The voice of the Sarah Roberts 38 

Green things growing Mrs. Craik 64 

Growth Emily J. Bugbee 203 

Hail, Arbor Day ! Lizzie D. Roosa 202 

Hemlock tree, The ... . Longfellow 171 

Hiawatha, The story of Longfellow 220 

Historical trees — Told in rhyme Lizzie M. Hadley 135 

Historic tree of Chicago, The 217 

Historic trees E. C. Delano 294 

Holiday, A new George William Curtis 211 

Holly tree, The Southey 83 

Home by the warm Southern sea, A Mrs. B. C. Rude 231 

How an apple tree grows 335 

How the leaves came down Susan Coolidge 198 

How to make a whistle 85 

Hymn Whittier 234 



aaa GENERAL INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Hymn, A forest . Bryant 4 

Hymn, A woodland Phebe A. Holder. . 122 

Hymn in praise of the natural world Ellen Beauchamp 350 

Hymn to the flowers Horace Smith 176 

If I were a bird 310 

In a forest Southey 65 

In praise of trees Spenser 262 

Inscription for the entrance to a wood Bryant ; 246 

In the swing Eudora S. Bumstead 101 

Invitation to the country, An Bryant 237 

Invocation Parr Harlow 349 

Ivy green, The . . Dickens .... 5S 

Ivy, The Henry Burtbn. 199 

Jack-in-the-pulpit Whittier 50 

Joy of Spring ■ Leigh Hunt 166 

Kind old oak, The 1 

Kind words 14 

Lady golden rod Carrie W. Bronson 139 

Landing of the pilgrims Mrs. Hemans 69 

Last dream of the old oak tree Hans C. Andersen 131 

Leaf, The anxious Beecher 52 

Leaf, The story of a Rebecca D. Rickoff 65 

Leaves, Autumn T. W. Higginson 1S1 

Leaves came down, How the Susan Coolidge 19S 

Leaves, The 173 

Leaves, The autumn 59 

Legend of the aspen 163 

Lesson of the leaves 37 

Letters: 

Carleton, Will 366 

Curtis, George William 357 

Dawson, N. H. R 370 

Draper, A. S 371 

Emerson, Edward W 369 

Fernow, B. E 360 

Headley, J. T 365 

Holmes, O. W , 369 

Longfellow, Alice M 369 

Lossing, Benson J 366 

Lowell , James Russell 369 

Mitchell, Donald G 367 

Morton, J. Sterling 357 

Murray, David 35S 

Northrop, B. G 359 

Parkman, Francis , 365 

Peaslee, John B 370 



GENERAL INDEX. **c 



PAGE 

Liberty, Flower of Holmes 43 

Liberty tree, The Thomas Paine 56 

Life in its spring time E. A. Holbrook 106 

Life's forest trees Ella Wheeler Wilcox 85 

Lilac, The Clara Doty Bates 303 

Lines Whittier 235 

Little acorn Mrs. M. H. Huntington 80 

Little birdie 165 

Little brown seed in the furrow Ida W. Benham 67 

Little by little 18S 

Little pine tree, The Eudora S. Bumstead 278 

Little planter, A ill 

Little things 217 

Live oak, The Henry R. Jackson . 145 

Lodge, The Scott 179 

Longing, A summer George Arnold 118 

Lost May, The Taylor 261 

Love of nature, The Wordsworth 194 

Madrona, The • F. M. Somers 263 

Magnolia-grandiflora C. P. Cranch 138 

Maiden Spring, The 24 

Maple Thos. D. English 302 

Maple, Birds choose the Susan F. Cooper 206 

Maple-tree, Song to the E. A. Holbrook 206 

Maple-tree, The blushing 236 

Marriage of the flowers, The S. H. M. Byers 142 

Mary and her pet squirrel 109 

May Wm. G. Park 89 

May Clarke , 151 

May 186 

May Eben E. Rexford 276 

May, A song for Eben E. Rexford 164 

May day ... Emma A. Opper 105 

May flower, The (Trailing Arbutus) Goodwin ... 261 

May, Flowers of the 233 

May morning Milton 3 2 

May morning Eliza L. Sproat 53 

Ma}- morning, A 290 

May morning lesson, A 265 

May queen, The Tennyson 192 

May song, A l8 ° 

May song, A... Anna M. Pratt 36S 

May. The lost Taylor 261 

May, The return of Mrs. Hemans 36 

May to April Philip Freneau 172 

May, Waiting for the J 8 

May, Welcome to 2 99 

Meeting of the Dryads, The Holmes 17 



446 



GENERAL INDEX. 



PAGE 

Merry spring 1S0 

Michigan trees, A convention of 313 

Midsummer Trowbridge 44 

Midsummer Abbie F. Judd 2S1 

Mondamin Taylor 255 

Month of May 94 

Monument of trees, A J. P. McCaskey 312 

Morning glory seed. The story of Margaret Eytinge 86 

Mother earth, A song for J. H. Kellogg 23 

Motion song — Dais)' fair Annie Chase. 57 

Mountain and the squirrel, The Emerson 94 

Mountain daisy, To a Burns 121 

Mr. Spring's concert ' 112 

Music, Arbor day (See " Index to Music ") 381 

My elm-tree Rebecca D. Rickoff. 49 

My home in the wildwood 202 

Myself Harriet E. Arey 310 

My tree < 102 

Naming the tree Mrs. B. C. Rude 114 

National flower, The Lucy Larcom 157 

Nature Pope 164 

Nature, The gladness of Bryant 147 

Nature, The love of Wordsworth 194 

Nature's temple David Vedder 197 

Nature, Tribute to Mary A. Heermans 351 

'Neath the cottonwood trees Mrs. B. C. Rude 277 

Now is the time 177 

Oak and the mistletoe seed, The 1 17 

Oak of our fathers, The Southey 95 

Oak, Plant the Mrs. A. V. McMullen 320 

Oak, The George Hill 8 

Oak, The Mrs. E. Oakes Smith S^ 

Oak, The Montgomery 167 

Oak, The Lowell 196 

Oak, The kind old 1 

Oak, The live Henry R. Jackson 145 

Oak tree, The 2 

Oak tree, The Mary Howitt 56 

Oak tree, The last dream of the old Hans C. Andersen 131 

Oaks, The J.C.Johnson 235 

Ode to the trees Maggie M. Welsh 274 

Old proverbs, A few x "9 

Old-fashioned flowers Ethel Lynn 180 

Old man's counsel, The Bryant 256 

Old tree, The 4S 

Old wood, The Hugh Kelso 35Q 

Olive tree, The Mrs. Hemans 283 



GENERAL INDEX. 



447 



PAGE. 

Olive trees of Palestine SS 

Orchard blossoms Mrs. Hemans 25S 

Orchard, The 31 

Our almanac Aldrich 33 

Our duty here Sir J. Bowring 169 

Our willows 11S 

Palm and the pine, The Taylor 9S 

Palms, Under the George William Curtis 214 

Palm tree, The Whittier 29S 

Patriots' password, The Montgomery 99 

Peach blossoms Mrs. Gould 103 

Pebble and the acorn, The Mrs. Gould 15 

Petrified fe»n, The Mary L. B. Branch 201 

Pine needles Wm. H. Hayne 139 

Pine, The spirit of the Taylor 92 

Pine tree academy, The V. E. Scharff 16S 

Pine tree, The Ruskin 253 

Pine tree, The little Eudora S. Bumstead 278 

Pine tree, To a Lowell 7S 

Pilgrims, The landing of the Mrs. Hemans 69 

Plant a tree Lucy Larcom 21 

Planted 42 

Planter, A little m 

Planting for the future Harriet B. Wright 129 

Planting of the apple tree Bryant 19 

Planting the tree E. P. Waterbury 352 

Plant the oak Mrs. A . V. McMullen 320 

Plant worship 76 

Poetry, The spirit of Longfellow...' 152 

Popular poplar tree, The Blanch W. Howard 35 

Praise song, Children's , . . . W. B. Downer 352 

Pretty rose tree, The 3 j 

Programs, Specimen (See Specimen Programs) 337 

Proverbs, A few old 1 -jg 

Pruning trees H. R. Sanford 297 

Purple beech, The 187 

Pussy and the poppies 30 

Pussy willow 236 

Put flowers in your window 290 

Quotations — a class exercise 70 

Race of the flowers 47 

Ready for duty — Daffy-do%vn-dilly 146 

Reaper, The dreamer and the Rev. J. H. Ecob 12 

Resurgam S. S. Short 90 

Return of May, The Mrs. Hemans 36 

Return of Spring Taylor 107 



44 8 



GENERAL INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Return of the birds, The Bryant 259 

Rhodora, The Emerson 303 

River's supplication, The Burns 271 

Robin and chicken 36 

Robin, Foolish little S6 

Robin red-breast E. A. Mathers ... 164 

Robin red-breast's secret 166 

Robin's come 39 

Robin, The Whittier 219 

Robin told, What George Cooper 269 

Rock a-bye baby, on the tree top 309 

Rose 269 

Rose, A child to a : 163 

Roses Edgar Fawcett .* 54 

Rose, Song of the Mrs. Browning 200 

Roses, Two little Julia P. Ballard . . . , 97 

Rose, The Moore 1S9 

Rose, The sweet red Joel Stacy 269 

Rose tree, The pretty 87 

Scripture selections on trees 249 

Seasons, The Katie D. Walster 169 

Seasons, The M. E. N. Hatheway 175 

Secret, The 1 

Seed, The 209 

Seed word 189 

Sermon from a thorn-apple tree Emily H. Miller 216 

Shade-tree planting association J. L. Bagg 347 

Ship, The building of the Longfellow 257 

Shut your cattle in. Mrs. B. C. Rude 254 

Silence is golden 128 

Sing a song to me 184 

Soliloquy of Douglas — Solemnity 9 

Somebody's Knocking. 102 

Song for May, A Eben E. Rexford 164 

Song for tree-planting Sara J. Underwood 349 

Song of consecration .... E. A. Holbrook 299 

Song of dedication Ellen Beauchamp 348 

Song to the maple tree E. A. Holbrook 206 

Song,of the rose Mrs. Browning 200 

Song to Mother earth, A J. H. Kellogg 23 

Song, The blue bird's 71 

Song to the trees '. J. W. Miller 270 

Soul in grass and flowers, A Lowell 178 

Spare the trees Madame Michelet 21S 

Specimen programs : 

Clyde, N. Y 340 

Elmira, N. Y 338 

Illinois 337 



GENERAL INDEX. ^g 



Specimen progams — Continued: PAGE 
Mohawk, N. Y. 339 



New York State. 



341 

Port Henry, N. Y., iSSS 369 

Port Henry, N. Y., 18S9 357 

St. Augustine, Fla 3_jo 

Watertown, N. Y 33S 

Spice tree, The John Sterling 73 

Spirit of poetry, The Longfellow 152 

Spirit of the pine, The Taylor 92 

Spring Henry Timrod 61 

Spring Longfellow 156 

Spring Mrs. M. M. Dodge 165 

Spring Celia Thaxter 177 

Spring. ... Thomson ... 197 

Spring and summer 22 

Spring, A walk in Montgomery 2S1 

Spring, Breathings of Mrs. Hemans 15S 

Spring, Early Thomson 151 

Spring, Effects of Wilson 1S3 

Spring flowers 119 

Spring is coming .... 1S1 

Spring, Joy of Leigh Hunt 166 

Spring, Merry 1S0 

Spring morning Moir 153 

Spring pointing to God Bruce 150 

Spring, Return of Taylor 107 

Spring's concert, Mr 112 

Spring song Jessie Norton 1S4 

Spring song Kate Hawthorn 202 

Spring, The maiden 24 

Spring-time 3 2 S 

Spring-time is coming 21S 

Spring-time, The Lily Rutherford 165 

Spring, The voice of Mrs. Hemans S2 

State tree, Choosing a • 123 

Storm in the forest, The Mrs. Gould 104 

Story of a leaf. The Rebecca D. Rickoff 65 

Story of Hiawatha, The Longfellow 220 

Story of the morning-glory seed Margaret Eytinge . . S6 

Summer, A dream of Whittier . 236 

Summer longing, A George Arnold nS 

Sunbeam, The Mrs. Hemans ' no 

Sunrise on the hills Longfellow 154 

Sunset '. Taylor 91 

Sunshine 2 33 

Swallows sing?— What is the song the H. B. Smith 193 

Sweet red rose, The Joel Stacy 269 

"Swino-, In the Eudora S. Bumstead 101 

"29 



, - GENERAL INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Talking in their sleep Edith M. Thomas 34 

Talks on trees Holmes 266 

They've cut the wood away 147 

Thorn-apple tree, A sermon from a Emily H. Miller 216 

Thoughts on the forest 10 

To a mountain daisy Burns 121 

To a pine tree Lowell 78 

Tongues in trees Shakspeare 262 

To the dandelion Lowell 244 

Trailing arbutus, The Rose Terry Cooke S4 

Trailing arbutus, The Whittier 216 

Trailing arbutus — The May flower Goodwin 261 

Tribute to nature Mary A. Heermans 351 

Tree burial Bryant 2SS 

Tree fair Lady Winchelsea 279 

Tree, My 102 

Tree, Naming the Mrs. B. C. Rude 114 

Tree of state, The .. Mrs. B. C. Rude 160 

Tree, Plant a Lucy Larcom 21 

Tree planting M. F. Butts 75 

Tree planting, Song for Sara J. Underwood 349 

Tree, Planting the. E. P. Waterbury 352 

Tree that tried to grow, The Francis Lee 113 

Tree, The Bjornson 176 

Tree, The Jones Very , 237 

Tree, The class Emma S. Thomas . . 351 

1 ree, The gingerbread Harriet P. Spofford 195 

Tree, The historic, of Chicago 217 

Tree, The liberty Thomas Paine 56 

Tree, The oak Mary Howitt 56 

Tree, The old 4& 

Tree, The popular poplar Blanch W. Howard 35 

Tree, The wonderful r 59 

Tree, Under the greenwood Shakspeare 91 

Tree, Words from the Conway 26 

Trees — A class exercise 6§ 

Trees, A convention of Michigan 3*3 

Trees, A discourse on Beecher 324 

Trees, Age of I "° 

Trees, Among the Bryant 284 

Trees, A monument of J. P. McCaskey 312 

Trees and vines, The best W. J. Milne 347 

Trees, Beautiful A. L. R 3U 

Trees, Bolehill Montgomery 2S7 

Trees, California's giant 2 7 2 

Trees, Famous and curious 2 "5 

Trees, Historic Edward C. Delano 294 

Trees, Historical, told in rhyme Lizzie M. Hadley 135 



GENERAL INDEX. * r j 



I'AGE. 



Trees, How to plant, — what to plant U.S. Department of Agriculture, 353 

Trees in a city Alice B. Neal 245 

Trees, In praise of Spenser 262 

Trees, Ode to the Maggie M. Welsh 274 

Trees of corn 91 

Trees of history and mythology. F. L. Sheldon 291 

Trees of the Bible W. H. Groser 24S 

Trees Professor Wilson 321 

Tree's, record of its life, A 293 

Trees, Song to the J. W. Miller 270 

Trees, Spare the Madame Michelet 21S 

Trees, The forest Eliza Cook 3 

Tulip tree, The Taylor 260 

Twig that became a tree, The 73 

Two little roses Julia P. Ballard 97 

Under the apple tree Elizabeth A. Allen 10S 

Under the greenwood tree Shakspeare 91 

Under the old elm Lowell 23S 

Under the palms George William Curtis 214 

Under the Washington Elm Holmes 140 

Under the willows .* Lowell 241 

Unfading evergreen, The 46 

United Helen F. O'Neill 141 

Use of Arbor day, The 296 

Use of flowers, The Mary Howitt 63 

Vine and the oak, The 46 

Violet, The . Lowell 230 

Violet, The wild Mrs. Gould 144 

Voice of the grass, The Sarah Roberts 3S 

Voice of Spring, The Mrs. Hemans 82 

Voices of the forest. . . Longfellow 2S9 

Voices of the night Longfellow 1S5 

Waiting for the May iS 

Waiting to grow 130 

Walk in spring, A Montgomery 2S1 

Washington elm, Under the Holmes 140 

Welcome to May 299 

What do we plant ? Henry Abbey 322 

What is the song the swallows sing? H. B. Smith 193 

What robin told . . Geo. Cooper 269 

When the apple blossoms stir 276 

When the green gets back in the trees J. W. Riley 72 

Whistle, How to make a S5 

Wild thorn blossoms Julian S. Cutler 289 

Wild violet, The Mrs. Gould 144 

Wild wood, My home in the 202 



. - » GENERAL INDEX. 

40- 



PAGE . 

Willow, Pussy. 336 

Willow tree, The Eliza Cook 30 

Willows, Our "8 

Willows, Under the Lowell 241 

Winter, Good-bye C. S. Stone 177 

Wonderful one-hoss shay, The Holmes Si 

Wonderful tree, The 159 

Wood, Inscription for the entrance to a Bryant 246 

Wood, The old Hugh Kelso 350 

Woodland hymn, A Phebe A. Holder 122 

Woodland in spring, The Cowper 148 

Woodman, spare that tree Morris 28 

Woodman, spare that tree, History of poem '. 29 

Woods, By summer *62 

Words from the tree Conway 26 

Wordsworth, To O. F. Emerson 191 

Yew, The Bryant 138 

Young Timothy and the forget-me-nots Estelle Thomson 99 

Young dandelion, The Mrs. Craik 155 



Index to ^Jusk. 



PAGE. 

Advent of Spring 407 

Apple Tree, Swinging 'Neath the Old 42S 

Arbor Day 381 

Arbor Day, Song of 424 

Arbor Day Tribute 386 

Beautiful are the Mountains 429 

Beautiful May 436 

Beautiful Spring Time 414 

Blest Spring Time.. 402 

Blossom Time 415 

Blue Bird 387 

Brave Old Oak, The • 417 

Cuckoo, The 426 

Fragrant Air 421 

Gay Little Dandelion 401 

Hymn of Praise 387 

If Ever I See 389 

In the Early Spring Time 435 

Lovely May 423 

Maple, Song of the 422 

March for the Children 398 

Monarch of the Woods 418 

Month of Apple Blossom 419 

Nature's Tribute Suggests Ours 385 

Oh, the Sports of Childhood 428 

Old Mountain Tree 427 

Polish May Song 425 

Pretty Little Blue Bird 434 

Protect us Through the Coming Night 407 

Roaming 396 

Robin, The 404 

Singing of Birds, The Time of the 42 1 

Soft and Sweet the Zephyrs Sigh 396 

Song of the Maple. ... 422 

Sports of Childhood, Oh, the 428 



454 



INDEX TO MUSIC. 



PAGE. 

Spring 433 

Spri ng Song, A 3S9 

Spring Time : 437 

Swinging 'Neath the Old Apple Tree 428 

Through the Lovely Vale 431 

Time of the Singing of Birds, The 421 

Violet, The 43° 

We Greet Thee, Merry Spring Time 393 

Welcome Spring, The 4°6 

Welcome to the Forest 393 

We Lift Our Tuneful Voices 43 1 

What the Little Things Said .- 395 

Woodman, Spare that Tree 425 



Index to ^utbops. 



PAGE. 

Abbey, Henry _ _ 322 

Adams, George. 204 

Aldrich, T. B 33 

Alexander, C. F 1S4 

Allen, Elizabeth A 108,150, 282 

Allingham, W 119 

Andersen, Hans Christian 131 

Arey, Harriet E . 310 

Arnold, George . 11S 

Arnold, S. J 97 

Bagg, J. L. ...'.. _. 347 

Ballard, Julia P 97 

Barhite, Jared 347 

Bates, Clara Doty 303 

Beattie 209 

Beauchamp, Ellen 322, 348, 350 

Beecher, H. W - 52,273, 324 

Beede, Eva J 51 

Benham, Carrie W 139 

Benham, IdaW _ 67 

Bjornson 176 

Blackmore, Sir R 246 

Bowring, Sir J_ _ • 169 

Branch, Mary L, B 201 

Bromley, I. H._ 259 

Brown, Kate L 106 

Browning, Mrs 200 

Bruce 150 

Bryant 4, 19, 39, 42, 66, 138, 147, 217, 237, 240, 246 

256, 259, 271, 278, 282, 284, 288 

Bugbee, Emily J 203 

Bui wer-Ly tton . 303 

Bumstead, Eudora S_ 106, 278 

Burns _ in, 121, 271 

Burroughs, John 297 

Burton, Henry 199 

Butts, M. F 75 

Byers, S. H. M 143 

Byron 64, 194, 2S8 

Campbell 95, 200, 302 

Cary, Alice 72, 246 

Cary, Phcebe 85, 320 

Cary, S. F 190 

Chase, Annie ---38, 183 

Chaucer 276 

Clarke 151 

Clark, Luella 230 

C lodia 164 

Coleridge 134 



PAGE. 

Congrevc. 100 

Conway, M. D 26 

Cook, Eliza ... j, 30 

Cooke, Rose T» a 84 

Coolidge, Susan 198 

Cooper, George 269, 283 

Cooper, Susan F _ 128, 206 

Cowper ._ 103, 148, 195, 231 

Craik, Mrs _ 64, 155 

Curtis, George W 211, 214 

Cutler, Julian S 289 

Delano, E. C 294, 307 

Dickens 58 

Dodge, Mrs. M. M 165 

Douglas, Marian 264 

Downer, W. B 352 

Draper, A. S 342, 343 

Dryden _ 281 

Dyer 304 

Ecob, Rev. J. H 12 

Edmondston, J 130 

Eliot, George 268, 273 

Emerson. R. W 94, 303 

Emerson, O. F 191 

English, T. D 302 

Eytinge, Margaret 86 

Fawcett, Edgar 6, 54 

Finch, F. M 84 

Flanders, Mrs. G. W 290 

Frankenstein, G 215 

Freneau, Philip 172 

Gerry, C. F 77 

Goethe 25 

Goodale, Dora Read 269 

Goodale, Elaine 9, 256 

Goodwin, Hopestill 252, 261 

Gould, Mrs. H. F 16, 103, 104, 144 

Gray -129, 173 

Groser, W. H 249 

Hadley, Lizzie M 138 

Hall, Anne 148 

Hall, L. V 87 

Harlow, Parr._ 205, 349 

Hatheway, M.E.N 175 

Hawthorn, Kate 202 

Hayne, Wm. H 139 

Heermans, Mary A 351 



45 6 



IXDEX TO AUTHORS. 



Heine -- 

Hemans, Mrs 36, 69, 82, 100, m, 159, 190, 

279, 

Higbee, E. E 

Higginson. T. W - 

Higley, Warren 3°5> 

Hill, George 

Holbrook, E. A 106, 161, 206, 299, 

Holder, Phebe A - 

Holmes, O. W 17, 43i 8l » I 4°. 264, 

Howard, Blanch W 

Howitt, Mary 5 6 , 6 3. 

Hunt, Leigh 24, 25, 166, 258, 

Huntington, Mrs. M. H 

Irving 



1 1 r 
258 



306 



Jackson, Helen Hunt . 

Jackson, Henry R 

Jacobs, Sarah S 

Jewett, Sara O 

Johnson, J. C. 

Judd, Abbie F 

Juvenal 



25 

146 
247 

141 
235 



Keats 

Kellogg, J. H 

Kelso, Hugh. 

Knapp, Lillian E -- 

Larcom, Lucy - 21, 34, 60, 

Lee, Francis - 

Longfellow 149, 152, 154, 155, 156, 161, 17T, 

198, 220, 257, 2S9, 

Lowell 37, 7 8 > x 7 8 . '9 6 . 230, 232, 234, 238, 

245, 
Lynn, Ethel - - --- 

Mann, B. P 

Marsh, Geo. P.. 29, 

Mathers, E. A -- 

May, Edith 

McCaskeyJ. P - 

McDermott, Jessie 

Michelet --- 

Miller, Emily H 

Miller, J. W__ - 

Milne, W. J - 

Milton 105, 148, 201, 232, 

256, 

Mitchell, D. G --- 

McMullen, Mrs. A. V 209, 

Moir - - 

Montgomery, James 99, 167, 280, 

Moore, Kathie -- - 

Moore, Thomas 87, 101, 189, 280, 

Morris, Geo. P . 

Neal, Alice B n, 245 

Neal, John n 

Nichols, Laura D 107 

Northrop, B. G - 3 01 

Norton, Jessie 184 

O'Neill, Helen F.... 141 

Opper, Emma A... - 105 

Pabodie, Wm. J 10 

Park, Wm. G 89 

Peaslee, JohnB 306 



301 
241 

3°4 



213 
164 



218 

216 
270 
347 
235, 
287 

239 
320 

153 
287 
265 
283 
28 



PAGE. 

Percy, Thomas 308 

Piatt, Sarah M. B 280 

Pope 100, 164, 181, 187 

Pratt, Anna M 368 

Pride, Anna R 27 

Read,T. B_ 45 

Rexford, E. E 164, 276 

Rickoff, Rebecca D 49, 65 

Riley, J. W 72 

Roberts, Sarah 38 

Roosa, Lizzie D 202 

Rude, Mrs. B. C 114, 161, 231, 254, 264, 277 

Ruskin, John 253 

Rutherford, Lily 165 

Sanford, H. R .._, 297 

Scharff, V. E 168 

Scott 78, 179, 189, 247 

Shakspeare 45,91, 144, 197,259, 262 

Sharpe, May E 25 

Sheldon, F. L 293 

Short, S. S 90, 191 

Smith, Alex no 

Smith, Mrs. E. Oakes 8 

Smith, Harry B 193 

Smith, Horace . 176 

Smith, May Riley 162 

Somers, F. M 263 

Southey 65, 83, 95 

Spenser 262 

Spofford, Harriet P 195 

Sproat, Eliza L 53 

Stacy, Joel _ 269 

Sterling, John 73 

Stone, C. S 177 

Sullivan, E. T 167 

Taylor, Bayard 91, 92, 98, 107, 256, 260, 261 

Tennyson 122, 192, 260, 263 

Thaxter, Celia . . 120, 177 

Thomas, Edith M 34, 321 

Thomas, Emma S -348, 351 

Thomson ",67, 151, 197, 254 

Thomson, Estelle - 99 

Timrod, Henry 61 

Tinsley, Mrs. Charles 186 

Trowbridge, J. T_ ' 44 

Underwood, Sara J 349 

Venable, W. H - . 41 

Vedder, David 197 

Very, Jones 237 

Virgil 309, 310 

Walster, Katie D 169 

Waterbury, E. P 352 

Watts _ 9 

Welsh, Maggie M 274 

Wheelock, Lucy 174 

Whittier._5i, 139, 216, 219, 234, 235, 236, 239, 298, 368 

Wilcox, Ella W 85 

Wilson 183 

Wilson, Professor 321 

Winchelsea, Lady _ 279 

Wordsworth 149, 156, 194, 213, 219, 274 

Wotton, Sir Henry 10 

Wright, Harriet B 129 



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